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LUCIA:    HER   PROBLEM 


BY 

AMANDA  M.  DOUGLAS. 

AUTHOR  OF  "  WITH  FATE  AGAINST  HIM,"  "  IN  TRUST,"  ETC., 


Jf  all  want  sense, 
God  takes  the  text  and  preacheth  patience. 

GEORGE  HERBERT. 


NEW    YORK: 
SHELDON    &    COMPANY. 

1872. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1871,  by 

SHELDON  &  COMPANY. 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington. 


Novels  by 
Miss  Amanda  M.  Douglas. 


"WITH  FATE  AGAINST  HIM.    1  Vol.  \2rno,  Price  $1.50- 
LUCIA  :   HKR  PROBLEM.    1  Vol,  Vlmo,  Price  $1 .50. 


STEREOTYPED  BT 

WILLIAM  McCREA  &  CO. 

NBWBUBQH,  H.  T. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAS*. 
A  Mystery 5 

CHAPTER  II. 
Mr.  Thorndike .16 

CHAPTER  III. 
What  it  cost    .  27 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Dorcas 37 

CHAPTER  V. 
Afterward 51 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Showing  Hands 65 

CHAPTER  VII. 
The  Golden  Side .    78 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Summer 87 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Among  Shadows .        .97 

CHAPTER  X. 
Taking  Counsel 108 

CHAPTER  XI. 
With  the  Tide 119 

CHAPTER  XII. 
By  Night  .  .  129 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
The  Tree  of  Knowledge 141 


4  Contents. 

CHAPTER  XIV 

PAGE. 

Friend  or  Foe 150 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Loitering  on  the  Brink. 161 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
Through  the  Sea 174 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
In  the  Desert 185 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Fighting  Fate 197 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Desperation 207 

CHAPTER  XX. 
Crowned  with  Rue 219 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
Rest  and  Refuge 230 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Facing  Destiny 246 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
Girt  by  Fire 257 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
Against  the  Tide 268 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
Going  Back .282 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
Out  of  the  Shadow 293 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 
The  New  Dawn 300 

CHAPTER  XXVIH. 
Autumn  Blooms      ....  .  307 


LUCIA:    HER    PROBLEM. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A   MYSTERY. 

"M 

IV  J.  here  to  supper.  Rachel,  I  depend  upon  you  to 
have  every  thing  in  order." 

Rachel  Garth  bowed  her  head  at  these  words  of  her  father. 

"  And — you  may  as  well  have  a  fire  built  in  the  best  room, 
I  think." 

"  The  best  room !  "  exclaimed  a  young,  fresh  voice  in 
strong  contrast  with  the  other,  for  whereas  his  was  cold  and 
leaden,  without  an  atom  of  elasticity,  hers  had  a  ringing,  buoy 
ant  sound. 

"  The  best  room,  I  said  to  your  sister. " 

There  was  a  very  decided  rebuke  in  the  tone,  and  some 
thing  more — a  kind  of  astonishment  that  any  one,  most  of  all 
this  child  that  Mr.  Garth  had  striven  day  and  night  as  it  were, 
to  reduce  to  a  state  of  passive  obedience,  should  express  the 
slightest  remark  upon  any  command  he  chose  to  utter. 

Mr.  Garth  had  just  risen  from  the  dinner-table.  He  walked 
to  the  fireplace  now,  and  standing  with  his  back  to  it,  crossed 
his  hands  in  the  warmth  of  the  blaze,  for  it  was  a  chilly  No 
vember  day,  and  though  he  was  not  cold,  he  would  soon  have 
to  breast  its  inclemency.  Then  he  glanced  around  and  his  eye 
fell  reprovingly  upon  his  youngest  daughter. 

"  Lucy,"  he  said  sternly,  "  you  would  commend  yourself 


6  Lucia;   Her  Problem. 

more  to  any  proper  and  judicious  person  by  keeping  your  hair 
in  better  order.  Those  untidy  ends  flying  about  are  very  an 
noying  to  me.  How  often  must  I  speak  of  it !  The  Apostle 
Paul  especially  discountenances  outward  adornment  and  plait 
ing  of  the  hair — " 

Mr.  Garth  paused.  In  his  zeal  he  had  rather  overstepped 
the  mark,  becoming  aware  too  late  that  plaiting  of  the  hair 
could  not  exactly  apply  to  his  daughter,  who  had  allowed  her 
soft,  golden-tinted  curls  to  droop  daintily  behind  one  small  ear 
that  looked  as  if  it  might  have  been  sculptured. 

Her  quick  brain  caught  at  the  blunder.  She  was  in  a 
strange  mood  to-day,  or  she  would  not  have  dared  to  brave  her 
father  the  second  time. 

"  I  believe  my  hair  is  not  plaited,"  she  returned  with  an 
almost  flippant  air.  "  Rachel's  is.  Turn  round,  Rachel,  and 
let  father  see  the  difference  between  braiding  that  you  have  to 
do  yourself,  and  curls  that  nature  insists  upon  doing  for  you." 

After  Lucy  Garth  had  uttered  this  she  felt  so  thoroughly 
frightened  that  she  would  have  been  thankful  to  have  the  floor 
open  and  swallow  her.  In  her  childhood's  days  these  out 
breaks  had  been  punished  by  being  put  in  a  dark  room,  sent 
to  bed  supperless,  or  even  the  use  of  the  rod.  When  she 
thought  of  the  blows  he  had  given  her,  father  though  he  was, 
she  hated  him  !  She  used  to  set  her  little  white  teeth  venge- 
fully  together  at  such  recollections,  and  if  she  was  a  bitter, 
faithless,  satirical  heathen,  he  had  helped  make  her  one. 

"  Lucy ! " 

She  could  imagine  the  sensation  of  any  one  being  shot 
through  with  a  bullet.  She  experienced  a  cold,  terrible  wound 
somewhere  that  deprived  her  almost  of  breath.  For  disguise 
it  as  she  might,  she  still  felt  afraid  of  him. 

"  Will  you  never  learn  to  show  proper  respect  to  your  supe 
riors,  girl  ?  " 

It  would  have  done  Mr.  Garth  a  great  deal  of  good  if  he 
could  have  marched  across  the  room  and  boxed  his  daughter's 


Lucia;   Her  Problem.  1 

ears  soundly.  But  the  last  time  that  he  had  indulged  in  this 
parental  liberty,  nearly  two  years  before,  Lucy  had  turned 
upon  him  with  the  passion  of  a  tigress. 

"  If  you  ever  dare  to  strike  me  again  you  will  repent  it.  I 
shall  kill  myself,  and  you  will  be  a  murderer  !  How  will  you 
answer  that  to  my  mother  at  the  last  day  ?  " 

Her  flashing  eyes  held  him  spell-bound.  The  threat  possi 
bly  might  have  had  some  effect,  for  though  many  a  time  since, 
the  desire  had  been  strong  upon  him,  he  had  restrained  him 
self. 

Lucy  made  no  answer,  but  looked  cold  and  sullen.  Mr. 
Garth  turned  around  and  warmed  his  face,  which  did  not 
need  it,  being  hot  and  red  with  anger. 

Then  he  gave  some  unimportant  charge  to  his  elder  daugh 
ter,  who  had  risen  from  the  table,  and  marched  out  pompously. 

The  room  was  large,  but  gray  and  cheerless  looking. 
Even  the  fire  of  logs  blazing  upon  the  hearth  could  not  give  it 
a  pleasant  air.  A  dull  hempen  carpet  covered  the  floor,  and 
this  in  turn  was  covered  with  a  still  more  dismal  square  under 
the  table.  The  high  mantel  was  surmounted  with  a  pair  of 
brass  candlesticks  at  the  corners,  and  a  snuffers  and  tray  in 
the  centre.  The  wall  was  a  hideous  dingy  yellow,  the  paint  a 
forlorn  tint  of  drab,  selected  because  it  would  not  soil  easily. 
The  window  shades,  and  there  were  five  in  the  room,  were  of 
faded  buff  holland  with  faded  drab  trimmings. 

If  the  master  of  the  house  inveighed  bitterly  against  the 
pomps  and  vanities  of  the  world,  he  would  have  made  but  a 
poor  ascetic  after  all,  for  he  was  not  given  to  stinting  the  inner 
man.  There  was  a  remnant  of  demolished  turkey  upon  the 
table,  flanked  with  oyster  salad  and  various  other  delicacies. 
The  plates  of  pudding  had  been  generous  too,  and  the  sauce 
rich,  if  one  could  judge  from  that  still  floating  on  Lucy's  al 
most  untouched  plate.  Mr.  Garth  liked  good  living,  it  must 
be  confessed. 

I  may  as   well  pause  here  and  describe  these   two  girls. 


8  Lucia;   Her  Problem. 

One  was  seventeen,  the  other  seven-and-twenty.  You  woula 
not  fancy  them  sisters  by  any  subtile  trick  of  nature,  though  she 
does  sometimes  indulge  in  far-reaching  resemblances.  They 
had  different  mothers,  which  must  account  for  the  extreme  dis 
similarity,  though  there  was  much  of  the  Garth  about  Rachel. 

The  first  Mrs.  Garth  had  been  a  hard-working,  self-den)  ing 
woman,  very  religious  also,  of  the  severe  type.  Nothing  ever 
kept  her  away  from  church  on  Sunday  mornings.  In  winter, 
when  the  services  were  in  the  afternoon,  she  always  went  twice. 
She  read  her  Bible  aloud  in  the  evening,  and  there  her  outward 
observances  stopped.  I  think  she  meant  to  be  honest  and  ear 
nest,  but  her  creed  was  narrow  and  her  nature  was  narrower 
still,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible.  From  Monday  morning 
until  Saturday  night  she  worked  and  saved.  Not  an  idle  mo 
ment  was  allowed,  not  a  penny,  a  candle  end,  or  a  pin  was 
wasted.  Of  course  Mr.  Garth  prospered.  He  was  one  of  the 
proprietors  of  a  large  woollen  mill  at  Dedham,  a  small,  but 
flourishing  manufacturing  town. 

Perhaps  in  his  early  days  he  might  have  been  made  more 
comprehensive  and  tender  of  soul,  but  he  fell  easily  into  his 
wife's  ways,  and  by  practising  them  at  the  Mill,  he  considered 
himself  much  the  gainer.  That  he  was  a  hard  master  I  need 
not  tell  you. 

Four  children  were  born  to  them.  Mrs.  Garth  had  peculiar 
ideas  about  managing  children.  When  she  was  through  with 
the  most  important  of  her  morning's  work  she  took  up  her  babe, 
washed,  dressed  and  fed  it,  and  deposited  it  again  in  the  cra 
dle.  If  it  felt  disposed  to  cry,  it  was  allowed  to  cry  until  ex 
hausted  nature  fell  asleep.  She  would  have  no  interference, 
for  she  did  not  want  her  children  spoiled. 

Three  of  them  found  life  too  severe  a  struggle  and  gave  it 
up  in  mild  wailing  despair.  This  might  have  been  Rachel's 
fate,  but  her  mother  overworked  herself  too  soon,  and  between 
cold  and  fever,  died. 

Miss  Garth  came  to  keep  house.     She  had  never  admired 


Lucia;    Her  Problem,  9 

her  sister-in-law,  but  in  her  way  she  was  equally  sharp  and  de 
cided.  Rachel  was  put  out  to  nurse,  as  being  the  cheapest 
way  of  solving  the  difficulty. 

When  the  child  was  three  years  old  her  aunt  married  and 
went  West.  Then  arose  strifes  and  heart-burnings,  jealousies 
and  gossip  in  Dedham.  Mr.  Garth  was  a  rich  man,  and  not 
too  old  to  marry.  Widows  and  spinsters  were  on  the  alert, 
smiles,  kind  advice  and  attention  were  showered  upon  him,  and 
fondest  love  upon  the  child. 

He  surprised  and  angered  the  town  very  much  by  his  sec 
ond  marriage.  He  went  West  to  buy  wool,  and  met  with  a 
certain  pretty  Miss  Mackenzie  with  whom  he  fell  in  love.  It 
must  have  been  love,  for  he  lost  prudence,  judgment,  and 
every  quality  that  should  be  brought  into  requisition  at  such  a 
time. 

He  might  have  known  that  this  gay,  young  thing  would  find 
nothing  entertaining  or  satisfactory  in  his  dull  life.  He  had 
no  right  to  ask  her  to  share  it  unless  he  felt  willing  to  make  it 
a  trifle  brighter  for  her  sake. 

She  accepted  him  with  a  girl's  romance.  He  was  much 
older,  and  therefore  she  could  look  up  to  him  ;  he  was  grave, 
and  it  would  be  both  a  pleasure  and  duty  to  soothe  and  com 
fort.  His  little  girl  was  motherless,  and  her  heart  absolutely 
yearned  over  the  child,  for  she  was  fond  of  babies  and  childrea 
Her  uncle  and  aunt  found  that  Mr.  Garth  was  a  well  to  do,  re 
sponsible  man,  and  thought  it  a  lucky  chance  for  her.  Six 
months  afterwards  they  were  married. 

To  a  girl  who  had  done  nothing  for  the  first  twenty  years 
of  her  life  except  to  go  to  school,  read,  write  letters,  visit,  attend 
concerts,  lectures  and  parties,  make  herself  pretty  and  entertain 
ing,  and  be  petted  on  every  hand,  this  was  a  great  change.  A 
cheerless  looking  home,  after  all  the  old  gayness  and  bright 
ness,  a  cold,  self-contained  child  whom  no  advances  could  win, 
and  a  host  of  ill-natured  critics  that  nothing  could  satisfy,  bu/ 
she  never  tried. 

1*       ' 


10  Lucia;   Her  Problem. 

Mr.  Garth  came  to  his  senses  and  repented  his  marriage. 
His  home  was  not  a  comfortable  one,  contrasted  with  the  past 
reign.  A  servant  was  called  in,  and  the  ancient  sisterhood 
held  up  their  hands  in  horror.  "  There  had  been  no  such  thing 
in  poor  Mrs.  Garth's  time  ! " 

Young  Mrs.  Garth  longed  to  beautify  inside  and  out.  She 
wanted  the  place  newly  furnished.  She  wanted  pictures,  and 
vases  for  bouquets,  and  books.  Mr.  Garth  would  as  soon  havs 
thrown  his  money  into  the  sea.  When  she  ordered  the  hired 
man  to  uproot  the  rows  of  sunflowers  and  hollyhocks  and  lay 
out  regular  flower-beds,  he  gave  a  doubtful  and  rather  sneering 
laugh,  but  it  was  never  done. 

Then  she  made  another  attempt  at  cultivating  Rachel.  She 
had  been  used  to  happy,  frolicsome  children  who  did  a  hundred 
naughty  things,  said  they  were  sorry,  and  then  straightway  did 
them  over  again.  But  they  were  loveable,  had  clinging  arms 
and  soft,  sweet  lips,  laughed  and  tumbled  about  and  were  a 
constant  pleasure  and  trouble. 

.  This  precise  little  Rachel  Garth  was  neither.  A  martyr- 
faced  child,  who  seemed  a  continual  reproach,  a  being  who 
studied  her  catechism  and  psalms,  went  to  church,  and  was 
precociously  religious.  The  sisters  attended  to  her  spiritual 
welfare  and  pitied  her  for  falling  into  the  hands  of  such  a  hea 
then  as  her  step-mother.  They  even  sympathized  with  Mr. 
Garth,  who  was  weak  enough  to  concede  that  his  marriage  had 
been  a  mistake. 

So  you  may  imagine  that  poor  Mrs.  Garth's  days  were  mis 
erable  enough.  She  used  to  resolve  sometimes  that  she  would 
run  away,  but  she  had  no  friends  to  shelter  her  now,  and  knew 
not  where  to  go  unless  she  threw  herself  into  the  river,  and  she 
fancied  that  she  was  much  too  wicked  to  die.  Then  her  child 
was  born,  and  for  awhile  came  blissful  content 

The  first  dispute  was  about  the  child's  name.  Mr.  Garth 
wished  to  call  her  Patience,  after  one  of  the  earlier  children 
and  his  own  mother.  She  insisted  that  it  should  be  Lucia 


Lucia;  Her  Problem.  11 

Mackenzie,  and  he  declared  that  no  child  of  his  should  have 
such  a  name.  Finally,  after  much  disputing  and  tragic  grief 
on  her  part,  a  compromise  was  effected.  The  child  was  to  be 
called  "  Lucy  Patience." 

Mrs.  Garth  had  learned  to  circumvent  her  husband.  She 
had  been  frank  and  open  as  the  day  when  he  married  her,  but 
latterly  she  had  gained  some  points  in  a  less  honorable  fashion. 
She  gave  in  at  last,  and  actually  called  the  baby  Patience  in 
its  father's  presence. 

So  they  went  to  church.  "  Name  this  child,"  said  the 
clergyman. 

She  had  slipped  a  bit  of  card  in  his  hand  before  the  cere 
mony,  and  he  had  made  himself  master  of  the  appellation. 
Now  she  whispered  it  again. 

"  Lucia  Mackenzie  I  baptize  thee — " 

Mr.  Garth  was  horror  struck !  It  was  all  over,  and  the 
mother  kissed  her  babe  with  devout  thankfulness.  That  day 
she  asked  her  husband  to  give  her  enough  money  to  support 
herself  and  child  and  she  would  go  away,  for  even  purgatory 
would  be  heaven  compared  with  this  place. 

He  actually  hated  her  as  much  as  his  phlegmatic  tempera 
ment  could  be  roused  to  hate.  A  mean,  spiteful,  underhand 
way  of  thwarting  and  making  her  feel  his  power.  She  lived  in 
and  for  her  child,  and  somehow  he  never  dared  interfere. 
If  he  had  ill-treated  that  in  any  way  I  am  afraid  she  would 
have  murdered  him,  for  her  fury  would  have  been  like  a  tiger's. 

The  poor  thing  pined  away,  and  no  one  ever  saw  it.  At 
last  she  died  suddenly  when  Lucia  was  nine  years  old.  God 
was  merciful  to  her,  and  kept  the  burden  of  her  child's  future 
life  from  crushing  her  soul  utterly  at  that  moment.  I  think 
He  had  infinite  pity  upon  the  warped  and  thwarted  life  that  had 
been  made  by  man's  cruelty  to  bring  forth  thorns  instead  of 
roses. 

Rachel  was  nineteen  at  this  time,  and  her  father's  house 
keeper.  Rather  above  medium  height,  and  not  a  bad  figure 


12  Lucia;  Her  Problem. 

if  she  had  possessed  a  particle  of  taste.  Her  hair  was  dark, 
soft,  and  very  abundant ;  her  complexion  decidedly  good  at 
this  time — but  at  seven-and-tvventy,  rough  and  sallow.  Her 
features  were  well  enough,  except  that  her  lips  were  thin  ;  but 
she  had  very  peculiar  and  uncomfortable  eyes,  a  sort  of  opaque 
leaden  blue,  like  her  father's. 

She  was  neat,  energetic,  without  possessing  quite  the  driv 
ing  spirit  of  her  mother:  economical,  handy  with  her  needle, 
the  pet  of  the  Dorcas  Society,  and  her  father's  pride,  as  far  as 
he  could  be  proud  of  any  thing  that  was  not  absolute  gold. 
She  had  never  made  any  pretence  of  liking  her  step-mother  : 
and  even  before  her  death,  could  dissect  her  in  a  most  admi- 
r^ble  way,  for  the  entertainment  of  the  sisterhood  at  the  tea 
drinkings. 

But  to  Lucia,  her  mother's  death  was  the  knell  of  hope  and 
love.  First,  her  long,  golden  ringlets  were  shorn — but  still 
the  ends  obstinately  insisted  upon  making  countless  curls, 
which  were  an  abomination.  The  dresses  and  aprons  were 
despoiled  of  their  dainty  ruffles,  and  a  blue  checked  bib  sub 
stituted,  for  the  child  had  altogether  too  much  vanity. 

There  were  some  hard  battles  between  her  and  her  father 
— but  she  soon  learned  that  there  was  no  course  save  submission. 
She  was  not  conquered.  She  ground  her  teeth  and  waited. 
For  the  las.t  year  she  had  been  emancipating  herself  rapidly. 

Her  father  had  insisted  now  upon  her  being  called  Lucy. 
She  used  to  ridicule  it  with  her  keen  sarcasm,  and  marked 
every  article  of  her  clothing  in  full — Lucia.  There  was  a  sort 
of  smothered,  tacit  war  between  her  and  the  household. 

After  her  father  had  left  the  room,  she  drew  the  next  chair 
nearer,  and  placing  her  small  feet  upon  it,  leaned  back  lazily. 
A  very  pretty  girl  was  Lucia  Mackenzie  Garth.  Smaller  and 
slighter  than  her  sister,  and  rounded  with  the  perfection  of  Greek 
sculpture.  This  coarse  brown  merino  dress  could  not  hide  it ; 
'and  the  plain  linen  collar  was  only  a  foil  for  the  whiteness  and 
*  graceful  turn  of  the  neck.  She  had  one  of  those  fair,  flushing 


Lucia;   Her  Problem.  13 

skins  that  was  a  subtle  charm  in  itself.  Her  features  were, 
not  altogether  regular,  but  one  only  remarked  the  effect,  which 
was  exquisite  from  the  broad,  low  brow  to  the  rounded  dimpled 
chin.  Her  eyes  were  very  dark,  and  changed  with  every  gust 
of  feeling.  There  was  in  them  a  wonderful  capacity  for  pleas 
ure  or  pain,  an  almost  fierce  hunger  and  a  sort  of  caustic  scorn. 
It  was  a  peculiar  face,  for  it  could  soften  radiantly  or  harden 
to  crystal  coldness  as  the  mood  swept  over  her — and  it  could 
also  flash  and  flame  in  a  way  that  warned  the  beholder  to  be 
ware  of  the  volcano  that  might  burst  forth  with  a  word.  It 
was  this  blaze  that  had  cowed  her  father  a  time  or  two. 

So  you  see  she  was  not  altogether  defenceless — and  yet  she 
was  one  for  whom  you  dreaded  the  battle  of  life.  The  rapid 
manner  in  which  she  could  traverse  abysses  of  pleasure  or  pain 
startled  you  ;  for  to  such  souls  the  strife  is  often  fearful,  the 
victory  and  the  crown  come  too  late. 

Rachel  began  to  pile  the  plates  together,  and  pack  up  cups 
and  saucers.  She  was  quite  thin  now,  which  made  her  look 
taller,  and  sallow,  as  I  have  said.  Her  really  beautiful  hair 
was  gathered  at  the  back  in  a  knot  of  braids,  because  it  kept 
smoothly  and  was  less  trouble.  Her  morning  care  of  it  lasted 
the  whole  day. 

She  still  retained  much  of  the  martyr-like  look,  and  had 
adopted  a  peculiar  sniff  caught  at  the  Dorcas  meetings.  A 
hard,  cold,  uncompromising  woman,  whose  virtues  were  scarce 
ly  less  exasperating  than  positive  vices. 

"  Lucy,"  she  said,  with  a  certain  asperity,  "  you  had  better 
be  carrying  some  of  these  dishes  to  the  kitchen." 

"What  do  we  keep  Hetty  for?  " 

With  that  Lucy  Garth  took  up  her  plate  of  pudding  and  be 
gan  to  mince  dainty  little  morsels. 

"Lucy,"  her  sister  rejoined,  in  a  tone  of  despair,  "one 
would  think  that  you  had  been  told  times  enough  about  that 
habit.  Father  would  not  allow  it  even  now." 

"  Well,  he  is  not  here,"  in  a  cool,  indifferent  voice. 


14  Lucia  j   Htr  Problem. 

"  And  you  always  were  an  eye  servant" 

Lucy's  cheeks  were  scarlet  at  that. 

"  I  am  no  one's  servant ;"  she  flung  out,  angrily. 

"  No,  you  are  a  vain  and  indolent  girl,  disrespectful  to  fa 
ther,  and  insolent  to  every  one  else.  I  have  tried  my  best,  I 
am  sure,  to  bring  you  up  as  a  respectable  girl  should  be  reared 
— but  you  turn  aside  after  evil  continually.  I've  done  my  duty, 
and  I  shall  wash  my  hands  of  the  matter.  It  must  be  settled 
between  you  and  father. 

She  gave  her  peculiar  sniff,  and  turned  away,  with  a  tower 
of  plates  and  saucers  surmounted  by  cups.  The  door  being 
shut,  she  had  to  set  them  down  while  Lucy  trifled  over  her  pud 
ding,  her  eyes  growing  darker  and  darker. 

"  Yes,  wash  your  hands,"  she  returned,  scornfully.  "  You 
said  once,  Rachel,  that  my  mother  begged  to  go  away,  even  if 
it  was  into  the  cheapest  retirement.  I  wish  she  had — I  wish 
she  had  !  I  think  you  and  father  both  hate  me  for  her  sake  ; " 
wringing  her  hands.  "  Can  I  help  being  pretty  ?  and  that's  a 
cause  of  offence  to  you  and  those  maundering  old  women,  who 
are  enough  to  set  one's  teeth  on  edge.  Sometimes  Tm  tempted 
to  run  away.  I'd  do  well  enough,  I  dare  say !  I  might  marry 
some  one ! " 

"  Marry ! "  With  that  there  was  a  crash,  and  the  steeple 
of  cups  lay  in  fragments  at  Rachel's  feet. 

Lucy  laughed.  A  provoking,  elfish  peal,  that  rasped  Ra 
chel's  slow  nerves. 

"  That's  my  fault,  too,  I  suppose  ? " 

One  peculiarity  of  Lucy  Garth,  was  the  readiness  with 
which  her  moods  changed.  A  second  ago,  she  was  in  a  white 
heat  of  passion ;  now  Rachel's  woe-begone  face,  as  she  studied 
the  pieces  upon  the  carpet,  was  too  ludicrous. 

"  Laws  a  massy  1  Miss  Rachel,  what  has  that  child  been 
doin'  agin  ? " 

This  was  from  Hetty,  who  put  her  head  in  the  opening  of 
the  door. 


Lucia;   Her  Problem.  15 

"  It  wasn't  me  this  time,"  announced  Lucy,  triumphantly. 

Hetty  began  to  scramble  up  the  fragments.  Rachel,  with 
out  a  word,  carried  the  rest  down  to  the  basement  kitchen. 
Lucy  rose  and  crossed  to  the  window. 

This  fatal  facility  of  change  was  her  misfortune,  perhaps. 
Some  days  she  worked  herself  up  to  that  pitch  of  energy  when 
a  different  state  of  affairs  brought  about  by  her  own  will  appear 
ed  possible.  Then  some  trifling  incident  diverted  her,  and  she 
fell  back  into  the  restless,  dissatisfied  condition,  where  hanging 
or  drowning  was  an  absolute  temptation.  And  yet  she  was  not 
one  of  the  kind  who  ever  do  commit  suicide. 

She  drummed  upon  the  greenish  window-panes  with  her 
slender,  rosy  fingers.  The  sky  was  leaden,  the  trees  bare,  and 
some  hard,  round  pellets  of  snow  were  blown  about  by  the  bit 
ing  wind.  How  miserable  it  was  out  there — and  how  misera 
ble  it  was  within !  Life  was  a  humbug,  a  flat,  dreary,  unevent 
ful  probation.  Some  girls  married  ;  but  here  was  Rachel,  twen 
ty-seven,  and  not  one  lover  yet.  Could  she  get  out  of  this  hate 
ful  round,  by  marrying? 

What  was  Mr.  Thorndike  like  ?  He  had  been  away  five 
years  ;  and  she  could  hardly  remember  whether  there  was  any 
thing  pleasant  about  him  or  not.  He  had  an  interest  in  the 
business — at  least  his  father  had  left  him  some  money  invested 
in  it,  but  he  had  been  out  on  Lake  Superior,  interested  in  a 
copper-mine.  What  had  brought  him  back  ?  Did  Rachel  like 
him? 


16  Lucia :   Her  Problem. 


CHAPTER  II. 

MR.    THORNDIKE. 

LUCY  went  up  stairs  presently,  wrapped  herself  in  an  old 
shawl,  and  curled  up  into  a  little  round  ball  on  the  bed, 
producing  a  surreptitious  novel,  and  forgot  her  woes.  Novels 
were  a  rare  luxury  with  her — for  Rachel's  eyes  were  sharp  at 
discovery — and  then  she  had  very  few  friends  who  indulged  in 
such  questionable  literature.  This  heroine  was  a  very  unwhole 
some  and  unnatural  specimen  of  humanity ;  but  the  eyes  of 
seventeen  are  not  over  critical.  Any  thing  of  the  kind  was  such 
a  treat  to  her,  in  her  forlorn  and  solitary  life.  She  had  begun 
to  emancipate  herself,  it  is  true.  With  a  father  worth  sixty  or 
eighty  thousand,  she  had  no  fancy  for  toiling  like  a  bond 
woman  ! 

So  while  Hetty  and  Rachel  scoured  and  moiled  in  the  kitch 
en — she  read,  and  dozed,  and  dreamed.  Through  it  all,  she 
kept  thinking — "  Mr.  Thorndike  is  coming,  and  father  has  or 
dered  a  fire  in  the  best  room."  What  did  it  mean  ?  How  old 
could  he  be  ?  Would  it  make  any  difference  in  their  lives — 
hers  and  Rachel's  ? 

If  she  could  have  seen  the  difference  that  it  was  destined 
to  make !  I  wonder — but  then  we  never  can  see,  and  we  al 
ways  drift  on  to  fate  in  a  Mind,  helpless  sort  of  way. 

She  felt  cold  and  shivering,  so  she  ran  down  stairs.  The 
parlor  door  was  open  the  merest  space,  for  Rachel  had  found 
it  rather  warm  when  the  fire  was  once  fairly  going. 


Lucia;   Her  Problem.  17 

Lucy  ventured  in.  There  sat  Rachel,  primmer  than  ever, 
stitching  wristbands  for  her  father.  Sewing-machines  were  her 
abomination. 

Rachel  Garth  looked  neither  young  nor  pretty.  She  should 
not  have  been  as  old,  hard,  and  weather-beaten — for  I  know 
of  no  other  word  to  express  the  peculiar  effects  of  sun,  wind, 
and  toil — at  twenty-seven.  Sitting  there,  she  was  the  imper 
sonation  of  an  "  old  maid,"  with  the  absence  of  that  grace  and 
tenderness  which  alone  can  bring  the  term  into  fair  repute. 
Lucy  smiled  in  a  little  derision. 

Ah,  youth  and  beauty,  you  are  too  pitiless  !  There  are 
cares  and  sorrows  for  you  as  well,  trials  and  thorny  paths,  and 
are  you  always  brave,  always  wise  ! 

"  I'm  nearly  frozen !  " 

Lucy  curled  herself  in  the  corner  like  a  kitten.  She 
might  have  purred  in  content  had  the  face  opposite  been  a 
cheerful  one,  for  after  all  she  was  not  hard  to  please. 

Rachel  sat  uncompromisingly  upright  and  sewed  steadily. 

"  I  suppose  they  will  not  be  here  until  clear  supper  time  ? " 

This  was  so  decided  a  question  that  Rachel  answered  stiff 
ly,  without  raising  her  eyes — 

"You  heard  what  father  said." 

Not  minding,  Lucy  went  on — 

"  How  old  a  man  is  Mr.  Thorndike,  Rachel  ? " 

"  I  don't  know — precisely'"  she  added"  after  a  pause,  for 
she  was  conscientiously  truthful  where  her  feelings  or  judg 
ment  were  not  warped. 

"  Well,  guess,"  rather  impatiently.     "  Forty  ? " 

"  I  should  think  not  so  old." 

"  Thirty,  then  ? " 

"  Somewhere  between.     I  am  not  sure." 

"You  are  very  provoking,  /am  sure." 

"  What  is  Mr.  Thorndike  to  us,  particularly  ?  " 

"  Oh,  we  might  one  of  us  want  to  marry  him,"  in  a  flippant 
manner. 


18  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

Rachel  Garth  turned  pale  when  she  was  angry,  and  her 
infrequent  blushes  were  a  kind  of  swarthy  tint,  as  if  her  blood 
could  not  be  fine  and  clear. 

"  Lucy,  you  are  growing  too  bold  and  forward.  Father 
would  be  shamed  by  your  immodesty." 

Lucy's  cheeks  were  bright  enough. 

"  Call  things  by  their  right  names,  if  you  please,  Miss 
Garth.  A  little  girlish  nonsense  !  " 

"  I  wish  you  were  not  so  frivolous.  The  time  may  come 
when  your  eyes  will  be  clearer." 

This  with  a  sighing  snifE 

Lucy  was  getting  not  only  thawed,  but  baked.  She  rose 
suddenly  and  leaned  her  elbow  on  the  mantel.  Something 
caught  her  eye,  and  she  paused,  her  scarlet  lips  slightly  apart, 
and  quivering  with  the  unuttered  retort. 

Her  father  was  coming  up  the  garden  path  with  the  guest. 
Mr.  Garth  turned  to  explain  some  matter,  and  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike  stood  quite  still,  so  she  had  a  fair  view  of  him. 

A  rather  tall  man,  moderately  stout,  with  a  fresh  complex 
ion,  Jull,  dark  beard,  and  dark  hair,  worn  quite  long,  inclined 
to  curl.  Contrasting  him  with  a  few  of  the  young  men  it  had 
been  Lucy's  privilege  to  meet  at  the  Dorcas,"  he  appeared 
undeniably  fine-looking. 

"Oh!  my  goodness!"  she  exclaimed,  in  her  girlish  ex 
citement  ;  "there  they  come,  and  I'm  not  dressed  !  " 

Rachel  gave  her  a  glance  of  stately  reproof,  as  much  as 
to  say — "Whose  is  the  fault?" 

She  flew  up  stairs,  and  then,  tumbling  in  the  middle  of  the 
bed,  burst  into  tears.  It  was  only  an  ebullition  of  vanity. 
For  the  last  eight  years  of  her  life  her  father  and  sister  had 
striven  with  all  their  might  to  uproot  it.  They  had  cropped 
her  hair,  made  her  wear  the  forlornest  of  old-fashioned  gar 
ments,  preached  and  punished ;  but,  like  a  thistle  root,  here 
it  was  firmly  imbedded  in  the  soil. 

"  If  I  only  had  any  thing  pretty  to  wear  !  "  she  sobbed. 


Lucia;   Her  Problem.  19 

It  was  a  severe  grievance  to  her.  She  liked  beauty,  and 
sweetness,  and  grace.  When  she  read  of  soft  silks  flowing 
about  some  slender  form,  delicate  laces,  pearls,  flowers  in 
one's  hair,  and  all  that,  her  heart  was  filled  with  longing. 
And  yet  it  was  not  all  vanity.  A  rose  or  a  bit  of  ribbon 
would  have  answered  her. 

She  dried  her  tears  presently,  and  took  down  her  two 
last  winter's  dresses.  A  green  and  brown  plaid  delaine  that 
she  hated,  and  a  merino  which  had  been  dyed  black.  Be 
sides,  there  was  a  shabby  brown  alpaca,  and  a  faded  drab 
of  the  same  material.  This  for  a  girl  who  might  have  forty 
or  fifty  thousand  in  her  own  right !  No  wonder  that  she 
was  angry !  Rachel  had  two  silk  dresses,  a  black  and  a 
brown  one.  It  was  hateful  and  heathenish  that  she  should  go 
so  shabby ! 

She  basted  a  bit  of  edging  at  the  neck  and  wrists  of  the 
rather  dingy  merino  ;  but  then  the  lace  was  real,  and  had  been 
her  mother's.  And  this  when  she  so  loved  dainty  bits  of 
brightness  and  beauty  !  After  that  she  washed  her  face,  and 
let  down  her  hair  that  had  been  confined  in  a  thick  net. 
Rachel  always  bought  them  because  they  wore  better. 

And  then  a  temptation  flashed  into  her  brain.  Some 
times,  for  pure  pleasure,  the  forlorn  child  would  curl  her  hair 
in  a  mass  of  shining  ringlets.  It  looked  so  lovely  in  its  shim 
mering  golden  sheen,  and  almost  seemed  alive. 

She  twisted  the  silken,  soft  mass  idly  around  her  fingers. 
One  by  one  she  reeled  them  off,  those  lovely,  graceful  pen 
dants.  Her  father  had  never  tried  the  shearing  process  but 
once,  for  while  the  effects  of  that  lasted,  the  curls  were  a  ne 
cessity.  No  amount  of  brushing  or  soapsuds  could  subdue 
the  luxuriant  crop. 

"  There's  not  one  word  said  anywhere  against  curls,"  she 
began,  as  if  to  fortify  herself  in  her  flagrant  disobedience. 
"  And  God  made  it — if  He  made  any  thing — " 

She   was  beginning  to  doubt  already;  indeed,  she  had 


20  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

never  believed  in  any  thing  but  her  dear,  dead  mother. 
Heaven  help  and  pity  her ! 

She  put  on  her  dress  in  a  strange,  defiant  mood.  Al 
though  she  was  chilly,  and  her  small  finger  ends  blue  with 
cold,  her  cheeks  were  in  a  glow  of  carmine,  and  her  eyes  like 
deep  wells,  subtle,  flashing,  and  dangerous. 

Lucy  Garth  went  straight  down  stairs  and  opened  the  par 
lor  door.  Her  father  was  not  there.  Mr.  Thorndike  was 
seated  in  Rachel's  vicinity  talking  quite  earnestly,  but  he 
paused,  and  looked. 

"  My  sister,"  said  Rachel,  coldly.     "  Mr.  Thorndike,  Lucy." 

He  rose,  bowed,  and  as  a  second  thought,  took  her  hand. 
It  was  such  a  soft,  tiny  thing,  and  seemed  to  nestle  like  a 
trembling  bird  in  his. 

"  How  cold  you  are  !  " 

"  Am  I  ? "  in  the  most  musical  of  tones.  "  Oh  !  only  the 
tips  of  my  fingers.  Do  you  know  what  I  would  do  if  I  were 
rich,  Mr.  Thorndike  ? " 

"No;  what?" 

"  Have  heaters,  and  all  those  lovely  things  for  comfort." 

She  sighed,  shook  her  ringlets  with  a  sort  of  regal  air,  and 
moved  toward  the  fire. 

Something  else  she  did  with  those  unfathomable  eyes  of 
hers — lured  him  across  the  wide  room.  Neglected  Rachel 
was  nothing  to  her. 

It  was  her  first  taste  of  a  dangerous  power,  an  intoxicating 
draught  that  so  many  women  drain  to  the  bitter  dregs,  and  at 
last  sit  in  the  ruins  of  a  heartbreak. 

She  came  to  her  opportunity  by  a  series  of  odd  chances. 
Her  father,  displeased  at  her  absence,  had  gone  to  seek  her. 
Crossing  the  hall,  he  bethought  himself  of  a  charge  to  Hetty. 
They  must  have  green  tea  for  the  guest.  While  he  was  in  the 
kitchen,  Lucy  went  down.  Not  finding  her  in  her  room,  he 
passed  on  to  his,  to  put  away  some  valuable  papers.  The  key 
to  the  small  safe  had  been  mislaid,  and,  after  much  searching, 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  21 

he  found  it  in  his  pocket,  so  it  was  not  possible  to  take  any 
one  else  to  task. 

In  the  mean  while  Hetty  had  stuck  her  head  in  at  the  par 
lor  door,  and  summoned  Miss  Rachel.  So  Lucy  and  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike  had  the  room  to  themselves. 

He  thought  her  wonderfully  beautiful.  The  shabby  merino 
and  real  lace  he  never  noticed,  but  the  flashing  hair,  the  beguil 
ing  eyes,  the  red  and  white  of  her  bright  young  face  was  like  a 
picture.  He  had  seen  many  pretty  women  too,  but  there  was 
an  indescribable  charm  about  this  one. 

Mr.  Thorndike  was  a  very  commonplace  man,  and  no  hero, 
though  he  appeared  so  to  Lucy's  inexperienced  eyes.  There 
was  not  one  noble  or  manly  attribute  in  his  whole  soul.  Still, 
the  world  found  no  fault  with  him  though  he  did  make  close 
bargains.  He  was  seven-and-thirty,  and  looked  neither  old 
nor  young  He  had  a  certain  prompt  business  air  that  seemed 
an  indication  of  power  to  her — and  then  she  rather  liked  the 
suggestion  of  mastery  in  his  eyes. 

Oh,  youth,  how  credulous,  how  ready  to  venture  the  most 
precious  freight  on  an  unknown  sea  without  pilot  or  helmsman  ! 
Is  it  any  wonder  that  wrecks  are  strewn  along  the  shore  ? 

"  So  you  wish  you  were  rich  ? "  he  said.  "  Why  your  father 
has  made  a  fortune." 

"Does  it  benefit  me  any?  Do  you  suppose  that  I  shall 
care  for  his  hoarded-up  thousands  when  he  is  dead  and  I  am  an 
old  woman  ?  Besides,  my  mother  died  young.  Is  a  marble 
tombstone  the  only  glory,  of  life — in  death  ?  " 

She  said  this  with  the  air  of  a  tragedy  queen.  Her  face 
was  so  impassioned,  so  full  of  expression  ! 

'*  How  strange  you  are  !  " 

"  Oh,  you  judged  me  from  my  sister,  I  suppose." 

I  cannot  describe  all  that  she  put  in  this  short  sentence. 
Pity  for  him  that  he  could  see  no  more  clearly — a  sort  of  sting 
ing  disdain  for  Rachel,  and  a  sad  isolation  for  herself.  She  felt 
it  all  at  the  moment. 


22  Lucia  :    Her  ProUtm. 

"Oh,  no ;  you  are  very,  very  different." 

"  I  wish  I  were  like  her,"  she  began  with  a  sudden  fiery 
vehemence. 

"  Do  you  ?     I  do  not." 

"  As  if  it  could  ever  make  any  difference  to  you.  Mr. 
Thorndike,  such  people  are  always  the  happier.  They  have 
no  yearnings  beyond  their  commonplace  life — no  fond  tastes 
to  gratify,  no  ambitions.  And  they  are  always  appreciated. 
Rachel  is  father's  favorite  ;  old  Mr.  Howe  thinks  her  a  saint  ; 
and  the  Dorcas  Society  fall  down  and  worship  her." 

I  am  afraid  much  of  the  worship  was  because  her  father 
was  still  a  widower. 

Half  of  Lucy's  sentence  was  lost  upon  Mr.  Thorndike. 
Nevertheless,  in  return  for  the  part  he  understood,  he  studied 
her  face,  lovely  and  glowing  as  it  was,  in  a  vague  way,  and 
asked,  abruptly — 

"  And  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  I'm  an  inveterate  heathen  !  I  have  not  a  grace  or 
virtue  in  their  eyes.  Why,  when  I  was  a  little  girl,  after  my 
own  dear  mother  died,  Rachel  and  father  cut  my  hair  close  to 
my  head,  to  give  it  a  religious  tendency." 

"  A  what  ?  "  he  exclaimed,  in  amazement.  "  Why  I  never 
saw  any  thing  so  handsome  !  " 

"  Then  you  don't  think  it  wicked  ?  " 

She  asked  this  in  an  eager,  heedless,  childish  fashion.  He 
twined  one  silken  strand  around  his  finger,  and  a  thrill  seemed 
to  quiver  in  every  pulse. 

" It  was  barbarous  !     Cut  it  off!" 

"  It  was  poor  mamma's  pride,"  and  her  face  saddened. 

He  wanted  very  much  to  take  her  in  his  arms  and  comfort 
her — so  far  had  he  gone  already.  And  yet  I  don't  know  that 
he  was  at  all  in  love,  only  bewildered  by  the  radiant  vision. 
.  She  possessed  a  peculiar  magnetic  power  for  so  many  of 
her  kind  as  could  from  any-occult  cause  be  brought  en  rapport 
with  her.  I  do  not  say  congenial  spirits — for  these  two  found, 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  23 

after  awhile,  that  they  had  not  the  slightest  feeling  in  common. 
It  was  rather  people  whom  she  could  influence.  Perhaps  the 
dull  earthworm  feels  the  sunshine  in  a  torpid  way,  though  he 
may  not  rejoice,  gladsomely,  as  the  butterfly. 

Something  of  this  crept  over  Mr.  Thorndike,  and  with  it  a 
consciousness  that  she  was  the  injured  party. 

"  Why  don't  they  like  it  ? "  he  asked,  in  a  wondering  man 
ner,  as  if  he  could  not  understand  any  one's  objection  to 
beauty,  since  it  could  be  had  so  cheaply. 

"  Oh,  they  all  think  it's  wicked  !  If  I  curled  it  myself  now, 
and  spent  hours  over  it,  the  case  would  be  different.  Are  you 
very  religious,  Mr.  Thorndike  ? " 

There  was  enough  in  her  face  to  tempt  an  anchorite. 

"  Why — no — not  particularly.  Of  course  I  think  it's  a  good 
thing  ;  and  my  father,  you  know,  was  one  of  the  elders.  Yes, 
it's  a  good  thing — "  in  a  sort  of  hesitating  way,  as  if  he  was 
balancing  his  soul  between  her  good  opinion  and  some  old 
ideas  that  he  was  not  quite  ready  to  disavow. 

"  I  liked  mamma's.  She  used  to  teach  me  beautiful  hymns 
— though  I  didn't  go  to  church  then.  I  hate  those  long  prosy 
sermons !  "  and  her  eyes  flashed.  "  It  seems  to  me  that 
there's  no  love  in  it ;  and  somehow  I  don't  believe  St.  John 
could  have  loved  the  Saviour  if  He  had  been  cold  and  cruel. 

"  No,  of  course ;"  in  a  vague  way,  for  it  was  like  an  un 
known  tongue  to  him.  "But — what's  the  old  adage — Love 
begets  love — isn't  it?  That's  my  sentiments." 

He  gave  a  rather  coarse  laugh.  It  jarred  upon  her  soul 
— but  she  was  quite  too  heedless  to  attend  to  the  admo 
nition. 

"  Are  you  going  to  stay  ?  "  she  asked,  after  a  pause,  find 
ing  his  stare  somewhat  uncomfortable. 

"  Stay  ? "  He  had  a  great  habit  of  repeating  the  last  word, 
as  if  he  heard  that  the  most  clearly.  "  I've  a  lot  of  business 
to  do  with  your  father.  You  know  my  father's  money  was 
never  taken  out  of  the  mill.  To-morrow  night  I've  promised 


24  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

to  see  a  cousin  at  Fairfield — yes,  I  suppose  I  shall  stay  for 
some  time." 

"  On  Thursday  there's  to  be  a  Dorcas  meeting  here,"  she 
said  slowly.  "  I  wish  you  could  come." 

She  felt  impelled  to  attach  him  to  herself  in  some  peculiar 
manner. 

"  Do  you  ?  By  Jove !  I'll  come  then.  Excuse  me,"  and 
he  flushed  rather  awkwardly  ;  that  is,  the  sentiment  and  grace 
of  embarrassment  were  not  there. 

She  was  immensely  flattered.  That  any  man  should  apol- 
ogiz2  to  her  for  so  mild  a  type  of  profanity  seemed  wonderfully 
chivalrous. 

"  What  do  they  do  ?  Let  me  see — wasn't  Dorcas  a  sort  of 
good  woman  who  was  followed  to  the  grave  by  the  clothes  she 
made — I  mean — " 

Lucy  laughed.  It  was  such  an  arch,  beguiling  laugh,  that 
it  didn't  hurt  him  at  all.  Indeed  it  seemed  as  if  her  rosy  lips 
had  been  made  for  sunny  smiles. 

She  was  rather  delighted  to  find  him  going  so  easily  astray 
in  religious  biography.  Why,  the  Dorcas  women  had  every 
thing  at  their  tongues'  end,  from  Eve's  pomological  experiment 
to  the  brilliant  and  sinful  attire  of  the  Scarlet  Lady. 

"  Yes — I  don't  know  but  that  it  would  be  a  gratification  to 
follow  some  of  these  to  their  graves.  Oh,  that's  very  wicked, 
isn't  it?  Well,  they  sew  together  garments  for  the  Feejee  Isl 
anders,  and  pull  their  neighbors  apart.  I  don't  believe  the 
first  Dorcas  did  that.  Then  the  gentlemen  begin  to  come  in, 
and  we  have  supper.  After  that  it's  a  little  gayer." 

"  Dancing  and  such,  I  suppose  ? " 

"  Dancing  ! "  with  a  comical  horror.  "  Oh,  goodness,  no  ! 
That  would  be  going  straight  to  destruction.  But  do  you 
dance,  Mr.  Thorndike  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  it  would  be  the 
loveliest  thing  in  the  world.  Tra  la,  tra  la,"  she  murmured  in 
her  soft,  untrained  voice,  exquisitely  musical,  and  inclining  her 
nead  until  the  shining  curls  were  like  a  shimmering  sea  of  gold. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem  25 

"You'd  like  it,"  he  commented,  strangely  roused. 

"  Like  it !  Why,  it  would  be  a  passion  with  me,  and  carry 
away  my  whole  soul !  " 

Every  nerve  in  her  impulsive  and  vehement  nature  seemed 
roused,  her  eyes  were  deep  with  some  far  light  struggling  to 
the  surface,  her  cheeks  aglow,  and  her  swelling  lips  quivering 
with  inward  delight  that  was  hardly  anticipation. 

The  door  opened  and  Rachel  entered.  She  was  shocked, 
nay  more,  indignant.  Half  an  hour  ago  it  appeared  to  her  that 
she  had  left  these  two  people  in  the  same  place,  and  here  they 
had  laughed  and  talked,  until  now  she  dared  to  smile  in  his 
face,  and  he  took  it  approvingly.  Like  many  another  woman, 
she  did  not  blame  him,  it  was  Lucy's  forwardness,  her  auda 
cious  boldness  that  she  had  tried  to  check  at  every  turn.  If 
ever  a  sister  had  done  her  duty  it  was  she,  Rachel  Garth  ? 

There  was  a  deeper  feeling  than  mere  impropriety  with  her. 
Five  years  before,  when  Warren  Thorndike  had  come  on  to  at 
tend  his  father's  funeral  and  look  after  the  business,  or  the 
money,  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  dropping  in  quite  fre 
quently  of  an  evening.  Lucy  in  those  days  ate  her  supper  of 
bread  and  milk  at  five,  and  marched  off  to  bed.  If  there  was 
company  at  any  meal,  she  took  hers  in  the  kitchen.  She 
might  have  seen  Mr.  Thorndike,  but  he  was  as  unfamiliar  to 
her  as  Adam.  Rachel,  however,  had  frequent  opportunities. 
She  sat  and  sewed  patchwork  or  knitted  stockings,  now  and 
then  putting  in  a  sage  word.  Her  father  considered  her  judg 
ment  remarkable. 

She  thought  Warren  Thorndike  a  very  handsome  young 
man.  If  he  had  asked  her,  she  would  have  been  delighted  to 
marry  him.  He  went  away  without  asking  her,  however,  and 
though  he  seemed  to  take  something  out  of  her  life,  she  worked 
the  harder  to  fill  up  the  vacuum. 

His  coming  back  was  most  friendly.  He  shook  her  hand 
in  a  very  warm  and  earnest  fashion,  and  began  to  talk  of  old 
times.  Lucy's  thoughtless  and  unwomanly  remark  came  back  to 


26  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

her.  Of  course,  if  he  married  one  of  them,  it  would  be  her. 
He  was  too  sensible  to  take  a  wife  twenty  years  younger  than 
himself;  and  then,  too,  she  fancied  that  there  was  hardly  a 
man  living  who  could  make  such  a  stupendous  blunder  as  to 
marry  Lucy.  All  her  faults,  her  indolence  and  frivolity,  her 
tempers,  her  impatience  and  utter  lack  of  steady  application 
to  any  thing  useful,  were  heinous  sins  in  Rachel's  view.  I  am 
not  sure  but  she  considered  her  prettiness  an  evil  and  a  snare. 
All  these  things  were  so  patent  to  her,  her  father,  and  the  Dor 
cas  society,  that  she  supposed  all  the  world  saw  them  with  the 
same  eyes. 

There  was  little  love  between  these  sisters,  and  none  of 
that  tender  grace  that  smooths  over  faults  and  failings.  Rachel 
would  have  considered  that  deception,  and  she  prided  herself 
upon  uncompromising  truth.  It  never  occurred  to  her  that 
some  one,  looking  at  her  with  similarly  prejudiced  eyes,  might 
work  her  woe  as  well. 

"Supper  is  ready,"  exclaimed  Rachel,  staring  at  Lucy  with 
sternest  disapprobation.  "  Where  is  father  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  in  a  cool,  insolent  tone. 

His  step  was  heard  at  that  moment.  He  had  been  lost  in 
a  little  business  calculation,  otherwise  Lucy  Garth  would  never 
have  gone  to  supper  with  the  triumphant  glory  of  those  curls. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  27 


CHAPTER   III.      , 

WHAT   IT   COST. 

MR.  GARTH  glanced  at  his  younger  daughter  with  the  ut 
most  incredulity,  and  for  an  instant  forgot  to  say  grace. 
Even  after  he  closed  his  eyes  he  could  not  collect  his  thoughts, 
and  groped  and  stumbled  in  a  strange  fashion  for  him.  Then 
Rachel  began  to  pour  the  tea,  and  Mr.  Thorndike  passed  the 
bread.  Rachel's  housekeeping  soul  was  delighted  as  she 
viewed  those  thin  slices  of  snowy  bread  with  their  crisp  golden 
brown  edges.  Hardly  another  woman  in  Dedham  had  such 
luck,  and  everybody  nearly  begged  a  bit  of  her  yeast  cakes. 

Mr.  Garth  felt  strongly  inclined  to  send  Lucy  away  from 
the  table.  He  was  afraid  that  she  would  make  a  scene,  per 
haps  refuse  to  obey  him,  and  he  felt  quite  sensitive  about  his 
authority.  Then  too  he  had  been  revolving  another  plan  in 
his  mind,  and  he  considered  it  wisest  to  be  gracious. 

They  began  to  talk  of  the  improvements  in  Dedham,  the 
rise  in  real  estate,  the  new  streets  and  factories.  Now  and 
then  Mr.  Thorndike  appealed  to  Lucy  for  the  verification  of 
some  statement.  She  felt  herself  quite  extinguished,  but  she 
still  held  a  reserve  card  and  a  trump  at  that — her  beauty. 
She  warmed  and  glowed  in  the  lamp  light  like  some  rare  open 
ing  flower  from  tropical  lands.  Now  and  then  she  shook 
a  flood  of  golden  waves  over  her  drooping  shoulders.  Then  it 
was  the  gleam  of  her  white,  slender  hand,  the  flash  of  her  deep, 
lustrous  eyes.  She  felt  in  a  mood  of  enchantment,  as  if  indeed 
she  were  acting  a  part,  and  so  she  was,  early  in  life,  poor  child  ! 


28  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

Mr.  Thorndike  was  by  no  means  delicate  or  ethereal. 
Every  thing  appealed  in  the  strongest  manner  to  his  taste,  the 
preserves  were  richness,  the  cold  tongue  soft  enough  to  melt 
in  one's  mouth,  the  custard  delightful,  and  the  cake  superb. 
He  allowed  himself  to  be  persuaded  into  a  second  helping  of 
fruit  cake,  it  had  just  that  damp  fragrant  deliciousness  that  he 
liked. 

Rachel  watched  him  with  a  good  deal  of  complacency.  She 
had  a  vague  idea  that  the  royal  road  to  a  man's  heart  was 
through  his  stomach,  and  it  did  not  lower  him  in  her  sight. 
Lucy  thought — "  if  I  should  ever  marry  him,  how  nice  it  would 
be  to  have  Rachel  come  and  keep  house — but  I  suppose  she 
wouldn't.  I  wonder  if  there  are  any  splendid  cooks  to  be  had 
in  the  world  !  " 

And  then  she  smiled  in  that  peculiar  way  as  if  richly  satis 
fied  with  some  wandering  fancy  of  her  own.- 

They  rose  presently,  Mr.  Garth  seemed  to  grow  pompous 
and  severe. 

"  Rachel,"  he  commanded,  "  conduct  Mr.  Thorndike  to  the 
other  room.  Lucy,  I  wish  to  see  you  a  few  moments." 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  Mr.  Thorndike  like  some  wild,  shy 
thing,  haunted  to  the  last  covert.  Her  lips  quivered,  and  her 
eyes  seemed  fairly  to  throb,  as  if  they  were  tremulous  with  a 
distinct  life.  But  he  could  not  translate  their  meaning — it 
was  so  much  Sanscrit  to  him. 

Rachel  cast  a  longing  glance  at  her  china,  but  she  obeyed 
with  a  feeling  of  gratification  that  Lucy  was  about  to  be  taken 
to  task  for  her  high  crimes  and  misdemeanors. 

Mr.  Garth  approached  her,  and  his  greenish  eyes  fairly 
glared.  He  caught  Lucy  by  the  shoulder  and  shook  her. 

"  How  dare  you ! "  he  began  in  a  low  hoarse  voice,  his  face 
white  with  passion.  "  How  dare  you,  after  what  I  said  ?  " 

Her  insolence  and  effrontery  were  gone.  Her  heart  beat 
with  great  frightened  bounds,  and  every  nerve  shrunk  from  the 
contact. 


Lucia :    Her  Prcblem.  29 

"How  dare  you  !  disobedient  and  ungrateful  child.  If  the 
Lord  was  just  He  would  cut  you  off  in  your  sins  !  Beware, 
lest  at  the  last,  like  another  evil-doer,  you  find  no  place  for 
repentance  !" 

"He  is  more  merciful  than  you,"  she  could  not  help 
replying. 

The  eyes  glared  fiercely  upon  her  again.  He  was  amazed 
that  she  ventured  to  speak. 

"  I  tell  you,  Lucy  Garth,  that  I'm  master  of  this  house,  and 
master  of  you  until  you  are  eighteen.  I  will  be  obeyed. 
Brave  me  once  again  in  this  matter  and  you'll  find  that  it  is  at 
your  cost !  You'll  repent  it  bitterly  !  " 

Oh,  she  was  sick  at  heart,  weak,  miserable  !  She  was  pay 
ing  dear  for  her  trifling  bit  of  vanity.  If  she  could  run  away 
— drown  herself  even  ! 

"  You'll  rue  it,  I  tell  you  !  You're  given  over  soul  and  body 
to  the  evil  one,  and  if  no  one  stood  by  to  pluck  you  as  a  brand 
from  the  burning,  you'd  go  straight  on  to  destruction.  No 
child  of  mine  shall  walk  in  the  broad  path  of  evil  without  my 
voice  being  raised  against  it !  You  are  stiff-necked  and  rebel 
lious,  full  of  sin  to  the  core.  I've  prayed  for  you  and  with 
you,  and  what  good  does  it  do  ?  " 

"  None,"  she  might  have  said  honestly.  She  wanted  no 
such  prayers,  she  even  thought,  heathen  as  she  was,  that  the 
broad  road  looked  inviting. 

"  Answer  me  ! "  and  his  grasp  on  her  arm  tightened,  while 
his  angry  and  cruel  face  was  distorted  by  her  mental  vision. 

She  wrenched  herself  away  with  sudden  courage,  for  her 
arm  felt  nearly  crushed. 

"  Don't  touch  me,"  she  cried  in  terror.  "  Keep  away,  for 
you  make  me  feel  savage.  Say  what  you  have  to  say,  and  let 
me  go ! " 

"Hetty,"  he  called,  "bring  a  candle." 

The  maid  obeyed  the  command.  Mr.  Garth  took  it  and 
motioned  Lucy  up  the  stairs  to  her  room. 


30  Lucia  :  Her  Problem. 

"  I  advise  you  to  spend  the  night  in  prayer  on  your  bended 
knees,"  he  said  in  his  most  sanctimonious  manner  that  made 
her  feel  as  if  she  should  scream.  "  Think  of  your  heinous 
sins  to  your  God  and  to  me,  your  wicked  vanity  that  is  lur 
ing  your  soul  to  perdition.  And  never,  while  you  are  in  my 
house  dare  to  appear  in  this  frowzy,  ungodly  manner.  It  is 
a  shame  to  any  respectable  woman.  Remember  this — at  your 
peril ! " 

"  Oh,  go ! "  she  cried  in  her  anguish.  "  In  mercy  leave 
me!" 

He  was  not  to  be  thus  bidden  away  by  his  sinful  child. 
He  exhorted,  he  even  prayed,  but  she  sat  on  the  bed's  side,  her 
dry  eyes  strained  and  wild  with  pain,  and  her  scarlet  lips  curl 
ed  in  scorn. 

At  last,  when  every  nerve  was  stretched  to  the  last  point  of 
endurance,  he  bade  her  good-night,  closed  and  locked  the 
door. 

She  flew  to  the  window  and  raised  it.  Her  first  impulse 
was  to  precipitate  herself  headlong  at  his  very  feet,  a  crushed 
and  mangled  mass.  Just  so  her  mother  had  battled  in  impo 
tent  rage.  And  yet  both  were  women  whom  a  word  might 
lead.  Oh,  blind  and  cruel  masters,  are  your  eyes  never  to  be 
opened  ? 

Of  course  she  paused.  There  is  a  sort  of  latent  combative- 
ness  that  hates  to  yield  before  it  has  made  one  good,  fair  fight. 
She  felt  that  hers  was  yet  to  come. 

But  the  night  air,  chilly  and  piercing  as  it  was,  did  her  good. 
It  cooled  the  scarlet  heat  of  passion  in  her  cheeks,  and  the 
throbbing  fever  of  her  lips.  Clasping  her  hands,  she  looked 
up  at  the  pitiless  sky,  dark  and  leaden,  and  cried — 

"Mother!  mother!" 

I  hope  her  mother's  heart  was  not  yearning  and  suffering 
over  her  child,  whom  she  was  powerless  to  assist,  even  amid 
all  the  glories  of  Heaven. 

As  Lucy  became  calmer  she  went  back  to  her  little  cracked 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  31 

mirror,  the  consolation  of  youth  and  beauty  always.  And  then 
she  whispered  to  herself  in  a  triumphant  tone — 

"  He  did  like  me.  It  was  because  I  am  pretty ;  and  if  1 
should  see  him  again  at  the  Dorcas — for  I  can't  well  be  shut 
up  then.  I  wonder  if  he  would  ever  care  enough  to — to  marry 
any  one ! " 

She  hated  them  both  for  keeping  her  up  here  away  from 
Mr.  Thorndike.  If  she  had  only  made  him  promise  that  he 
would  surely  come  ! 

Her  candle  was  burning  low,  so  she  hurried  into  bed  with 
out  the  form  of  penitence  her  father  had  enjoined.  In  his 
blind,  arbitrary  way  he  prided  himself  upon  doing  his  duty  to 
his  refractory  child,  just  as  Rachel  did  in  her  cold,  methodical 
fashion.  That  she  had  not  been  made  a  hypocrite,  was  owing 
to  her  own  sense  of  truth  and  honor;  but  they  were  doing  their 
best  to  crush  it  out 

Mr.  Garth  returned  to  the  parlor  in  evident  discomposure. 
His  visitor  was  quite  too  obtuse  to  make  fine  distinctions  how 
ever.  Rachel  stole  a  few  moments  to  attend  to  her  beloved 
china  and  damask  napkins,  and  then  she  took  out  some  of  her 
Dorcas  work  and  sewed  in  a  heaven  of  content. 

Mr.  Thorndike  found  it  very  dull  after  his  talk  with  Lucy, 
that  seemed  so  sparkling  by  contrast.  If  Rachel  could  have 
but  known  how  immensely  she  was  losing,  as  he  compared  her 
with  her  absent  sister,  she  would  not  have  felt  flattered.  But 
as  she  did  not  know,  she  stood  the  scrutiny  with  great  compla 
cency. 

"I  suppose  they  make  her  wash  the  dishes;"  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike  mused  in  his  unquiet  soul,  her  meaning  Lucy;  but  when 
he  had  waited  an  hour  or  more,  he  ventured  upon  a  bold 
step. 

"  Where  is  Miss — your  daughter,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  Gone  to  bed.  She  flagrantly  disobeyed  me — and  that  no 
child  has  ever  done  in  my  house,  without  punishment  of  some 
kind.  I  hope  it  may  prove  a  salutary  lesson.  Women,  of  all 


32  Lucia :   Her  Problem. 

others,  should  be  strictly  obedient.  If  they  do  not  respect  their 
parents,  how  will  they  honor  their  husbands ! " 

Mr.  Garth  delivered  this  in  a  dictatorial  tone ;  and  then 
studied  the  pattern  of  the  carpet,  which  was  an  ingrain,  in  ex 
tremely  modest  hues,  the  device  beginning  one  side  of  the  room 
and  ending  at  the  other. 

"  Stout  old  governor!"  Mr.  Thorndike  commented  inter 
nally.  "  Wonder  how  she  liked  it  ? " 

She  was  crying  herself  to  sleep  in  another  paroxysm  of 
anguish. 

"  I  guess  I'll  go  ;"  and  Mr.  Thorndike  walked  slowly  to 
ward  the  fireplace. 

"Oh,  no,  Thorndike,  don't  be  in  a  hurry.  You  can 
go  home  when  there's  no  other  place,  you  know."  And 
Mr.  Garth  looked  consciously  elated  at  his  second-hand  face- 
tiousness. 

"I'll  drop  in  to-morrow.  After  dinner  I'm  going  down  to 
Cousin  Hollisters.  There's  a  mortgage  to  settle." 

"  You  had  better  go  in  for  some  property  here,  Thorndike. 
It'll  be  a  good  investment." 

"  Think  so  ? " 

"Yes.     Oh,  Cunningham's  place  has  been  offered." 

"  Pretty  grand,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"Yes;  but  going  at  nothing.  He's  cramped — as  such  a 
man  deserves  to  be.  They've  all  been  flying  high,  the  Cun 
ninghams  ;  and  pride  must  have  a  fall."  With  which  Mr.  Garth 
shook  his  head  in  extreme  satisfaction.  "  The  place  can  be 
bought  for  half  its  value ;  cash  down.  A  good  chance  for 
speculation." 

Mr.  Thorndike  was  tired  and  disappointed,  and  inclined 
to  be  cross.  What  did  he  care  about  the  Cunningham  place, 
or  how  many  falls  pride  had  ! 

"  Yes,  I  must  go  ; "  almost  abruptly. 

He  shook  hands  with  Rachel,  and  said  "  good-night." 
Ilis  hcst  followed  him  to  the  door. 


Lucia:   Her  ProbCem.  33 

"  It  is  very  dark,"  said  Mr.  Garth.  "  You  had  better  stay 
and  take  a  bed  with  us  !  " 

"  Oh,  no,  thank  you :  I'm  used  to  roughing  it  on  cloudy 
nights.  I'll  be  in  again,  soon." 

He  went  stumbling  along,  wondering  a  little  if  he  could 
have  seen  Lucy  in  the  morning. 

"A  pretty  girl,  by  Jove  !  Garth  has  a  nice  pile,  too.  But 
a  fellow  ought  to  have  a  good  deal  of  money  with  Rachel  ! 
How  she's  faded  !  Must  be  pretty  hard  on  to  thirty,  though." 

Mr.  Garth  came  back  to  his  seat,  and  presently  began  to 
dilate  upon  Lucy's  enormities. 

"  There's  too  much  of  her  mother  in  her,"  he  exclaimed, 
with  an  ominous  shake  of  the  head.  "  No  one  knows  the  anx 
ious  hours  and  the  prayers  that  unregenerate  child  has  cost 
me  !  What.it  will  be  as  she  grows  older,  I  shudder  to  con 
template." 

And  well  you  may,  Mr.  Garth.  Her  future  that  might  have 
been  so  bright  and  happy,  was  deeply  shadowed  by  your 
hands  :  and  her  salvation  was  worked  out  amid  bitter  suffering. 

Rachel  and  her  father  were  peculiar  friends  in  a  cold,  rath 
er  repressed  fashion.  He  told  her  many  of  his  plans,  and  she 
listened — all  he  required  of  her  ;  he  bewailed  the  sins  of  his 
youngest  born,  and  she  sympathized,  if  the  feeling  had  in  it 
warmth  enough  for  that.  Sometimes  he  touched  upon  busi 
ness  and  the  people  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  Still,  he 
was  pompous  and  dogmatic  even  with  her  ;  but  she  had  no 
nerves  to  be  rasped. 

"  Thorndike  has  not  changed  much,"  he  said,  presently, 
holding  his  slippered  feet  to  the  fire. 

"  No.     I  should  have  recognized  him  anywhere." 

"  A  fine  fellow.  A  good,  sharp,  energetic  business  man 
Made  a  fortune  out  in  the  coppers.  I  heard.  Rachel !  " 

"  Sir  ?  "  as  he  paused.     She,  at  least  was  respectful. 

He  was  looking  at  the  fire,  not  at  her.  The  inattention 
was  of  no  moment. 


34  Lucia :  Her  Problem. 

"  Rachel,"  and  he  cleared  his  throat — "  I  could  not  wish 
a  better  husband  for  you." 

Rachel  Garth  did  not  blush  nor  betray  any  surprise. 

"  I  shall  do  handsomely  by  you.  You  were  always  my  fa 
vorite  child.  I'm  not  a  poor  man,  Rachel." 

"  No,  father." 

She  uttered  this  with  conscious  pride,  and  thought  too  cf 
the  piles  of  bed  and  table  linen  packed  away  in  the  press  up 
stairs,  and  the  bed-quilts  she  could  count  by  dozens.  It  was 
all  hers,  of  course.  She  would  never  have  thought  of  sharing  it 
with  her  idle  and  foolish  sister. 

"  I'd  like  to  see  you  well  settled,  Rachel.  You  have 
been  a  good  daughter,  and  good  daughters  make  good 
wives." 

He  announced  this  in  his  inflated  fashion,  as  if  it  had  been 
a  grand  discovery. 

"  I  am  sure  I  owe  it  all  to  my  judicious  training,"  she  an 
swered  meekly. 

"  Yes,  you  deserve  it,  Rachel,  you  deserve  it." 

She  thought  she  did  also.  Her  humility  extended  only  in 
a  limited  range,  and  was  oftener  the  outward  form  than  the  in 
ward  grace. 

Rachel  Garth  sat  and  sewed  complacently,  while  her  father 
figured  up  that  Rachel's  children  would  be  worth  a  million  at 
the  very  least. 

Lucy  was  called  at  the  usual  hour  the  next  morning,  for 
the  Garths  were  early  risers.  She  heard  the  key  click  in  the 
door,  and  was  no  longer  a  prisoner.  So  she  rubbed  her  love 
ly  sleepy  eyes  and  wished  she  was  a  resident  of  that  happy 
land  were  people  did  as  they  liked. 

One  of  the  worst  things  was  yet  to  come.  Her  father  al 
ways  labored  to  make  her  express  some  contrition.  As  a  lit 
tle  child  she  did  it  from  very  fear,  but  now  she  had  gained  suf 
ficient  courage  to  refuse.  She  hated  the  talk,  the  whining  tone 
•and  the  eyes  so  keen  and  masterly. 


Lucia :   Her  Problem.  35 

She  entrenched  herself  behind  a  sullen  dignity,  and  admit 
ted  nothing.  As  well  talk  to  the  wind. 

"  You  will  have  nothing  but  bread  and  water  to-day,"  was 
her  father's  fiat. 

Hetty  received  her  orders,  but  then  Hetty  had  a  weak 
point  and  could  be  coaxed.  Lucy  therefore  did  not  starve. 

"  It's  as  much  as  my  life's  worth,"  she  said.  "  Oh,  child, 
if  you'd  only  listen  to  them  prayers  of  your  father's  and  repent. 
He  allus  does  it  for  your  good." 

Lucy,  the  little  wretch,  laughed  and  put  her  arms  around 
Hetty's  scrawny  neck. 

"  You're  the  best  Christian  of  the  lot,  Hetty.  You  feed 
the  hungry  and  visit  those  in  prison  sometimes.  I  believe  I 
love  you." 

Lucy  was  on  her  good  behavior  that  day  and  the  next. 
The  obnoxious  curls  were  hidden  in  the  thickest  net  that  she 
could  find.  Cold  as  it  was  she  spent  much  time  in  her  room, 
and  any  one  with  the  least  penetration  could  see  that  she  carried 
a  mystery  in  her  face. 

Thursday  was  a  bright,  cheerful  day.  A  fire  was  made  in 
the  parlor  again,  and  a  great  basket  brought  from  the  pantry. 
The  Dorcas  people  were  usually  very  prompt.  Rachel  had  to 
look  after  the  supper.  She  dealt  the  butter  and  biscuits  out 
to  Hetty,  sliced  the  ham  and  tongue  in  the  merest  wafers,  and 
then  arrayed  herself  in  a  dress  that  was  not  her  best  by  any 
means.  She  never  gave  a  thought  to  Mr.  Thorndike  during 
these  preparations. 

"  She  looks  like  a  fright,"  commented  Lucy  inwardly. 
Oh,  I  wonder  if  he  will  come  !  What  did  they  tell  him 
the  other  night,  and  what  did  he  think  ?  If  I  can  make  him 
like  me  !  " 

She  had  reached  that  climax  of  mental  aspiration  already. 
If  any  one  would  like  her  and  marry  her,  she  would  hail  it 
gladly  as  a  means  of  escape  from  this  galling  serfdom.  Some 
way  the  chain  must  be  broken. 


30  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

You  could  see  a  fine  desperation  in  those  deep  eyes,  one 
of  the  resolves  that  wins  or  perishes  in  the  attempt. 

Poor  child !  .how  was  she  to  know  that  it  was  but  an  ex 
change  of  masters  ?  that  hard  as  this  slavery  was,  the  other 
could  be  still  more  intolerable  ?  No  warning  hand  was  raised, 
alas !  most  pitiful  of  all,  there  was  not  one  soul  who  loved  her 
well  enough  to  be  solicitous  for  her  welfare.  They  all  consid 
ered  food  and  raiment  sufficient,  as  if  the  soul  could  feast 
upon  that ! 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  37 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   DORCAS. 

IT  was  high  tide  with  the  Dorcas.  Miss  Kip  had  sailed  in 
with  her,  "Well !  I  never  was  so  beat  in  my  life!  "  which 
was  a  kind  of  streamer  flying  from  the  mast-head.  A  woman 
of  five-and-forty,  with  a  very  high  forehead  and  very  thin  sandy 
hair.  She  did  not  have  the  traditional  sharp  nose,  but  her 
teeth  were  narrow  and  long,  and  gave  you  a  sort  of  uncom 
fortable  feeling,  as  if  in  any  emergency  she  might  take  to 
biting. 

There  was  a  knot  of  middle-aged  women  around  her,  ea 
ger  for  the  dish  of  gossip.  Then  at  one  window  a  group  of 
younger  ladies,  who  were  still  discussing  Mrs.  Freeman,  the 
missionary  who  had  gone  from  their  church  to  far  Burrriah. 
She  had  sent  a  letter  home  to  Mrs.  Howe,  begging  for  a  box 
of  different  articles,  and  the  Dorcas  was  trying  to  complete 
them  this  afternoon.  Three  or  four  of  these  were  envying 
Mrs.  Freeman  in  their  hearts.  Why  couldn't  they  as  well 
have  gone  off  in  triumph,  instead  of  wasting  their  sweetness 
on  the  desert  air  of  Dedham. 

Lucy  sat  quite  apart,  sewing  on  a  pinafore  for  Henry  Mar- 
tyn  Freeman,  aged  four.  The  tricky  Burman  servants,  the 
snakes,  centipedes,  boiled  rice,  and  journeys  to  the  interior 
were  of  no  great  moment  to  her,  neither  Miss  Kip's  strongly 
seasoned  dish.  She  was  wondering  for  the  hundredth  time  at 
least  whether  he  would  come. 

Presently  there  was  a  lull  among  the  elders.     Nearly  ev- 


38  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

erybody's  short-comings  had  been  discussed,  Mrs.  Burnam's 
turned  alpaca  picked  to  pieces,  Mrs.  Snow's  new  bonnet  held 
up  to  execration,  the  Cunninghams'  extravagances  severely 
condemned,  and  Mrs.  Deacon  Peters  "  had  told  her  husband 
he  needn't  look  for  that  last  quarter's  pew  rent  to  be  paid. 
People  who  could  flaunt  around  in  silks  and  satins,  and  have 
Pcrshy  carpets,  never  gave  much  to  the  cause  of  religion." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  they  all  took  breath.  Their  eyes 
glared  furtively  round  for  the  next  bit  of  prey. 

"  So  Mr.  Thorndike's  come  back,  Rachel  ? "  and  Mrs. 
Bowers  slyly  took  a  pinch  of  snuff. 

"  No,  you  don't  say  !  " 

That  was  news  to  Miss  Kip,  for  a  wonder. 

"  Yes,  he  was  here  to  tea  on  Tuesday  evening." 

Rachel  Garth  said  this  with  a  certain  air  of  meek  impor 
tance. 

"  Why,  where  is  he  staying  ?  " 

"  He  went  to  his  cousin  Hollister's  on  some  business." 

"  Is  he  going  in  actively  with  your  father,  Rachel  dear  ? " 
asked  Mrs.  Peters  plaintively,  as  if  the  fact  would  aggrieve 
her  very  much. 

'•  I  don't  know." 

"Will  he  stay?"  asked  Miss  Kip. 

"  I  believe  he  intends  to." 

Rachel  Garth  was  not  much  of  a  gossip.  Being  reticent 
by  nature,  it  was  necessary  to  question  her  at  every  step. 

"  Now  there  will  be  a  time.  Girls,  do  you  hear  that  ? " 
and  Miss  Kip  glanced  toward  the  window  circle.  "  Why,  Mr. 
Thorndike's  come  back  !  Now  I  do  hope  there  won't  be  any 
goings  on  in  this  congregation.  The  way  girls  sometimes  act 
about  a  marriageable  man  is  scandalous  !  " 

Considering  that  Miss  Kip  had  "  acted  "  unsuccessfully 
from  eighteen  to  forty-five,  she  was  quite  capable  of  judging. 

"  Mr.  Thorndike  is  not  a  young  man." 

"I'm  sure  he's  not  an  old  one,  snapped  Miss  Kip.     His 


Lucia  :   Her  Problem.  39 

mother  and  my  mother  were  bosom  friends,  and  always  wore 
the  same  colored  gowns.  Many's  the  time  we've  played  to 
gether  as  children.  Why,  I  wonder  that  he  didn't  call !  Poor 
mother  would  have  been  so  glad.  She  used  to  look  upon 
him  quite  as  a  son." 

Some  of  the  girls  in  their  twenties  tittered  a  little.  Ah, 
girls,  when  you  are  forty  and  single  it  will  be  no  laughing 
matter. 

"  He's  made  a  fortin'  off  there  on  the  Lakes,  I've  heard 
say,"  Mrs.  Bowers  announced. 

There  was  another  onslaught  upon  Rachel.  How  Mr. 
Thorndike  looked,  how  much  he  was  worth,  where  he  expect 
ed  to  live,  what  he  intended  to  do,  and  every  question  that 
ingenuity  could  invent.  Rachel  felt  herself  quite  a  heroine, 
since  she  was  the  object  of  so  much  attention. 

"  I  wish  I'd  asked  him  to  the  Dorcas,"  she  thought  within 
herself. 

Lucy  smiled  in  her  odd  self-absorbed  fashion.  What  if 
she  knew  more  about  Mr.  Thorndike's  movements  than  all 
the  rest  ? 

It  was  five  o'clock  and  beginning  to  grow  dusky.  He  had 
not  come  in  the  early  train,  but  if  he  took  the  next  one,  she 
might  reasonably  expect  him  at  six.  Rachel  went  to  see 
about  the  supper.  Lucy  brought  some  lights,  and  then  ran  up 
stairs  in  the  gathering  gloom.  Jerking  off  her  net  her  beauti 
ful  hair  fell  to  her  waist. 

"  It's  a  shame  I  can't  curl  it !  They're  a  mean,  hateful, 
jealous  set,  every  one  of  them  ! "  which  included  her  father 
and  Rachel  half  a  dozen  times  over.  "  Oh,  wouldn't  it  make 
them  stare !  And  he  thought  it  so  beautiful  !  Just  wait 
till  I  have  a  chance !  " 

She  wet  the  comb  and  passed  it  through  the  long,  silken 
tresses ;  then,  instead  of  twisting  it  in  the  usual  coil,  she  gath 
ered  it  loosely,  parting  out  a  few  ends,  and  took  from  her  bo 
som  a  net  that  she  had  been  crocheting  at  intervals.  It  was 


40  Lucia :   Her  Problem. 

made  from  fine  black  glace  cotton,  as  glossy  as  silk,  and  with 
large  meshes.  There  would  be  a  golden  glimmer  through  that ! 
And  she  knew  well,  cunning  little  minx,  that  when  her  hair  be 
came  dry,  it  would  be  one  mass  of  bewildering  waves,  and  per 
haps  a  few  stray,  suggestive  curls.  Then  she  tied  a  blue  rib 
bon  about  her  shapely  head.  It  had  been  washed  once,  already. 
How  she  hated  all  these  petty  meannesses  and  uncalled-for 
economies  !  They  did  it  to  humble  her  pride  ;  but  pride  throve 
like  a  giant,  and  was  only  waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  rear 
its  head. 

The  gentlemen  began  to  drop  in.  It  must  be  confessed 
that  the  old  First  Church  in  Dedham  could  not  boast  of  very 
decided  intellectuality  or  progress.  It  was  narrow  in  soul,  op 
posed  to  any  innovations  ;  and  when  part  of  the  congregation 
had  once  undertaken  some  improvements,  it  became  the  cause 
of  a  quarrel  and  division.  The  energetic  ones  branched  out, 
and  were  soon  a  flourishing  society.  It  was  a -power  in  Ded 
ham — had  a  reading-room,  and  young  men's  society  ;  and  their 
social  circles  were  of  the  higher  order,  and  really  entertaining. 
Consequently,  these  people  kept  more  strictly  to  their  old  ways, 
and  indulged  in  sundry  flings  at  the  worldliness  and  pride  of 
the  Shiloah  Society. 

There  were  very  few  young  men  among  the  First  Congrega 
tion,  and  these  of  the  fledgeling  order,  but  they  were  m^ide  much 
of,  iievertheless.  They  seldom  condescended  to  make  their  ap 
pearance  until  eight  or  so  in  the  evening. 

Lucy  went  down  again  very  quietly.  Somehow  she  seemed 
under  a  sort  of  social  ostracism.  Miss  Kip  had  been  her  Sun 
day-school  teacher,  and  labored  in  season  and  out  of  season — 
especially  the  latter,  for  her  conversion,  and  finally  pronounced 
her  the  most  hardened  child  that  she  ever  saw ;  but  latterly; 
Miss  Kip  had  taken  the  office  of  Assistant  Superintendent ; 
and  Miss  Gorham,  who  wore  gold-bowed  spectacles,  and  was 
less  energetic  about  lost  souls,  had  supplied  her  place.  The 
Sunday-school  was  more  comfortable  for  Lucy  therefor^. 


Lucia:    Her  Problem.  41 

At  half-past  six,  the  first  table  were  invited  out  to  supper. 
These  were  the  married  people,  and  those  who  could  not  by 
any  possible  stretch  of  the  imagination  be  considered  young. 
The  rest  meanwhile  had  a  good  time  in  the  parlor.  Lucy  al 
ways  helped  wait  upon  the  table. 

For  the  last  half  hour  Lucy  Garth  had  been  in  the  most  in 
tense  state  of  suspense.  With  every  knock  at  the  door  her 
heart  had  bounded  to  her  throat,  and  her  pulses  quivered. 
What  if  he  should  not  come  ?  In  that  case  not  only  this  even 
ing,  but  all  of  life  would  be  a  blank.  Courage,  Lucy.  Neither 
pains  nor  pleasures  are  outlived  at  seventeen. 

Mr.  Howe  said  a  grace  as  long  as  ordinary  prayers.  Lucy 
began  to  carry  the  cups  mechanically,  gave  Miss  Kip's  green 
tea  to  Mrs.  Bowers,  and  that  lady's  weak  coffee  to  Miss  Kip. 
When  mild  Mr.  Gorham,  a  bachelor  of  fifty  summers,  asked  for 
a  glass  of  water,  she  brought  him  milk. 

"  Lucy,"  said  her  sister  severely,  "  if  you  can't  pay  any  bet 
ter  attention  to  your  business,  you  may  as  well  go  to  bed  !  " 

This  covert  threat  roused  her  a  little.  Being  sent  to  bed 
was  not  a  pleasant  possibility. 

At  last,  when  they  were  eating  and  drinking  and  talking  in 
good  earnest,  she  stepped  into  the  hall  for  a  breath  of  air. 
What  a  miserable  farce  this  life  was  !  Why  were  people  born 
into  the  world  to  be  jostled  about,  starved,  misunderstood,  all 
their  best  purposes  turned  to  ill,  their  hidden  fire  warming  no 
one,  and  only  scorching  themselves  !  What  was  the  use  of  the 
pain  and  anguish  that  no  one  ever  knew  or  saw,  save  the  one 
wretched  soul  that  was  even  forbidden  to  cry  aloud !  Why  was 
she  not  like  these  other  people  ?  Why  did  a  word  or  a  look 
sink  deep  into  her  soul  that  every  one  pronounced  shallow  and 
frivolous  ?  Why — 

A  knock  at  the  door  interrupted  her  reverie.  It  was  sharp 
and  decisive,  and  she  opened  it  in  the  same  manner,  ready  to 
frown  at  the  intruder. 

It  was  Mr.  Thorndike  ! 


42  Lucia  :   Her  Problem. 

"  Oh,  ah — hillo  !  "  he  said  in  his  rather  bluff  fashion.  "  I'm 
glad  to  see  you.  Show's  under  good  headway,  I  guess." 

A  vague  feeling  of  dislike  and  detestation  sprang  up  in 
Lucy  Garth's  heart.  The  man  was  coarse,  without  the  graces 
of  either  refinement  or  feeling. 

"  Did  you  think  I  wasn't  coming  ?  " 

Lucy  started  violently.  If  she  had  obeyed  her  impulse 
and  fled  from  this  man,  and  fought  her  way  up  to  the  light 
alone ! 

"  Why,  how  white  and  scared  you  look  !  And  your  curls  ! 
By  Jove  !  I'll  murder  the  one  who's  cut.  them  off!  " 

"  They're  not  cut,"  Lucy  returned  in  strange  bewilderment. 
"  And — I  had  giCen  you  up.  Walk  in." 

"  Did  you  care  about  my  coming  ? " 

His  eyes  were  fond  and  eager,  his  face  handsome  in  a  kind 
of  healthy  animal  fashion.  Somehow  it  went  to  her  heart. 

"  Because,  I  wouldn't  give  a  pin  for  the  rest  1  The  train 
met  with  a  detention,  but  didn't  I  hurry  along,  and  if  you've  no 
welcome  for  me — " 

His  voice  and  face  had  a  curious  effect  upon  her.  And 
then  the  exultant  thought  swept  over  her  that  she  could  make 
this  man  love  her,  could  leave  this  hateful  life  behind  at  a 
bound. 

She  flushed  deeply  and  then  smiled,  and  with  it  the  tears 
came  to  her  eyes.  How  very  lovely  she  looked  !  It  moved 
him  strangely,  and  before  either  of  them  understood  the  import 
of  the  caress,  he  had  taken  her  sweet  face  in  his  hands  and 
kissed  the  soft,  fragrant,  trembling  lips. 

"  Oh  !  "  she  said  with  a  little  sigh  which  she  hardly  dared 
utter  above  her  breath,  and  though  it  was  fright,  the  repression 
toned  it  down  and  gave  it  a  touch  of  longing  and  satisfaction. 

"  I  could  make  her  love  n*e  !  "  he  thought,  and  with  it  came 
the  resolve. 

"  You  haven't  said  that  you  were  glad  to  see  me  !  " 

"  Haven't  I?"  with  a  saucy  smile  that  made  her  radiant. 


Lucia  :  Her  Problem.  43 

"  Why,  do  you  suppose  I  asked  you  to  come — because  I  would 
be  sorry  to  see  you  ? " 

"  Well,  no  ;  "  and  he  laughed. 

"  Was  there  an  accident  ? " 

"  Oh  no,  at  least  not  much.  A  pipe  or  a  pivot  or  a  screw 
— I  don't  believe  any  one  knew  except  the  engineer.  What 
are  they  doing  in  there  ? " 

A  Babel  of  voices  issued  from  the  room.  The  hall  was 
long  and  this  little  corner  quite  out  of  sight.  The  young  folks 
had  shut  themselves  in  the  parlor,  and  were  absolutely  telling 
fortunes  ! 

"  Eating  and  drinking  !  "  with  the  utmost  disdain. 

"  That  coffee  smells  tempting." 

"  Will  you  go  in  and  have  some  ? " 

She  raised  her  head  haughtily,  and  her  voice  had  an  icy 
crispness  in  it. 

"  Not  now,"  and  he  smiled  in  a  peculiarly  satisfied  man 
ner.  "  Will  they  send  you  to  bed  to-night  ?  " 

Lucy  colored  and  gave  a  little  vexed  laugh. 

"  It  was  awful  mean.    By  Jove,  do  they  think  you  a  child  ?" 

"  I  believe  they  do,"  rather  dryly. 

"  I  found  it  dull  enough  without  you,"  he  said,  puzzled  by 
the  changes  in  her  manner. 

"Lucy!"  some  one  called.  "Where  is  Lucy?"  the  last 
in  Rachel's  voice. 

"  Oh,  I  must  go.  WTait  a  moment.  I'll  send  father  out 
Yes,  it  is  better." 

He  clung  to  her  hand,  but  she  drew  it  away  with  seeming 
reluctance. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Lucy  ?  Why  can't  you  stay 
where  you  are  wanted  ?  " 

Rachel's  tone  was  sharp  and  her  brow  drawn  into  a  frown. 

"  Some  one  knocked  at  the  door  and  I  went ;  it  was  Mr. 
Thorndike— I  must  tell  father." 

This  in  a  low,  hurried  whisper,  and  she  passed  on  to  an 
nounce  the  new  arrival. 


44  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

Rachel  smoothed  her  face,  and  wished  she  had  \vorn  a  bet 
ter  dress — or  even  put  on  her  brooch.  So  you  see  she  was 
troubled  with  some  small  vanities  as  well. 

Lucy  had  decided  in  a  momentary  flash  of  consideration, 
that  it  would  not  answer  for  her  to  bring  Mr.  Thorndike  into 
the  room.  Those  hawk-eyed  gossips  would  pounce  down  upon 
her  too  soon,  and  set  themselves  to  work  watching  every  word 
and  look.  She  was  not  quite  sure  of  any  thing,  even  her  own 
mind,  and  she  had  a  fancy  that  it  would  not  hurt  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike  to  hold  a  little  aloof.  The  idea  of  being  kissed  at  the 
second  interview  !  Why  this  corps  of  propriety  would  tear  her 
in  pieces  if  they  knew  it. 

Ah,  Lucy,  it  was  more  the  burst  of  honest  admiration,  than 
any  idea  of  impertinent  freedom.  And  yet  how  strange  !  No 
one  ever  kissed  her  save  old  Hetty  and  motherly  Mrs.  Howe, 
who  had  been  kept  home  by  the  rheumatism. 

Mr.  Garth  ushered  Mr.  Thorndike  into  the  room  ;  and 
great  was  the  astonishment.  The  women  took  possession  of 
him  immediately,  and  asked  a  thousand  questions,  uttered  a 
thousand  wonders,  and  sighed  profusely  over  his  dear,  dead 
father,  who  was  a  pattern,  and  his  dear,  dead  mother,  who  was 
a  saint.  It  was  some  time  before  he  could  get  around  to  Ra 
chel. 

During  this  while,  a  host  of  feelings  and  impressions  flitted 
through  Lucy's  brain.  Mr.  Thorndike  was  much  the  finest- 
looking  man  in  the  room,  which  perhaps  was  not  saying  a 
great  deal.  His  figure  was  stout,  strong,  and  with  a  certain 
harmony  that  cultivation  might  have  moulded  into  manly 
grace.  His  face  was  bright,  cheerful,  and  healthy  ;  and  the 
majority  of  people  would  have  pronounced  him  handsome  at 
once,  those  who  were  not  on  the  keen  scent  for  soul  and  the 
higher  attributes.  But  after  all,  this  is  what  makes  the  true 
man — though  with  some  the  body  counts  for  a  great  deal. 

It  was  not  wonderful  that  it  should  obtain  with  Lucy  at  this 
stage  of  her  life  She  certainly  would  never  be  ashamed  of 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  45 

Mr.  Thorndike,  she  thought.  Then  she  remembered  that  his 
hands,  as  they  touched  her  cheek,  were  soft,  that  his  lips  were 
firm,  and  his  breath  sweet  with  health.  A  trifle  coarse  and 
rude,  but  that  had  probably  arisen  from  his  mode  of  life.  She 
liked  the  geniality,  the  hearty  voice,  and  she  decided  that  he 
was  superior  to  those  here,  to  all  whom  she  was  in  the  habit 
of  meeting. 

By  some  accident  he  stationed  himself  at  Rachel's  side. 
She  poured  his  coffee  with  a  slow  smile,  expressed  her  regret 
that  she  had  not  asked  him  for  this  evening,  and  her  pleasure 
that  he  had  happened  in  to  surprise  them  all.  There  were  so 
many  old  friends.  It  must  be  very  agreeable  to  meet  them  all 
again. 

This  was  quite  an  effort  for  Rachel.  He  discreetly  kept 
his  own  counsel,  and  glanced  furtively  at  Lucy,  who  was  most 
intent  upon  the  duties  of  her  office.  How  provoking  that  she 
would  not  even  look !  But  Lucy  was  taking  in  all  this  atten 
tion  and  honor,  and  being  won  by  it.  It  was  a  powerful  ally 
for  him. 

Presently  some  one  remembered  the  second  table,  and  the 
leaders  started  reluctantly.  Mr.  Thorndike  was  not  half 
through  of  course,  so  Miss  Kip  came  back  from  the  hall,  mar 
shalling  in  the  younger  set,  and  began  to  wait  upon  them. 
Mr.  Garth  remained  too,  and  Mr.  Thorndike  grew  restless. 
How  could  he  get  away  ? 

"  Oh,  there's  Kitty  Forbes,"  he  said.  "  Why  she  was  only 
a  little  school  girl  when  I  went  away.  I'll  take  a  plate  of 
sandwiches  over  to  her." 

Miss  Kip  longed  to  follow,  but  here  was  such  an  excel 
lent  opportunity  to  have  a  little  talk  with  Mr.  Garth.  She  had 
not  quite  given  up  all  designs  in  this  quarter.  True,  in  one  of 
her  sympathetic  conversations  on  the  subject  of  the  "unfortu 
nate  Mrs.  Garth'' — "  a  lazy,  good-for-nothing  hussy,"  she  termed 
her  elsewhere.  Mr.  Garth  had  said,  with  much  decision  and 
solemnity — 


46  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  I  confess  that  my  punishment  was  just,  Miss  Kip.  I  had 
no  right  to  set  such  a  woman  over  my  dear  Rachel,  who  has 
never  given  me  an  -anxious  thought  in  her  life.  But  I  hrm, 
learned  a  lesson  by  this  chastisement,  which  I  hope  the  Lord 
will  sanctify  to  me.  I  never  shall  pain  my  daughter  by  a 
similar  trial ! " 

But  if  the  daughter  married,  perhaps  Mr.  Garth  would 
have  no  such  conscientious  scruples  about  Lucy's  comfort ; 
and  Miss  Rip  almost  ached  to  be  her  step-mother.  She'd  see 
if  the  child  wouldn't  walk  in  the  straight  and  narrow  way  ! 
It  was  best,  therefore,  to  pause  and  do  the  agreeable  to  Mr. 
Garth,  and  learn  what  the  prospect  promised. 

Mr.  Thorndike  marched  over  to  Kitty  Forbes,  and  block 
aded  Lucy  in  the  corner. 

"  Come,  you  must  take  something,  too,"  he  said. 

She  picked  up  a  sandwich  in  the  daintiest  manner  possible 
— and  gave  him  a  smile  in  return.  In  fact,  she  was  rapidly 
developing  a  spice  of  coquetry. 

"  Don't  you  want  some  coffee  ? " 

"You  could  never  get  back  if  you  went." 

"Couldn't  I?     Why?" 

He  was  not  very  sharp  at  discovering  hidden  mean 
ings. 

"  Some  one  would  keep  you  captive.  There  are  so  many 
old  friends,  and  I  am  quite  a  new  one." 

"But  of  more  account  than  all  the  rest." 

"  Go  for  the  coffee,  then.  Ten  minutes  from  this,  you  will 
see  me  wearing  the  willow." 

"Orange  blossoms  are  sweeter.  Isn't  that  what  they 
wear  ? " 

"  They  ?  Who  ? "  in  the  most  charming  state  of  innocence. 
"  For  recreant  Knights  ? " 

He  looked  puzzled  and  studied  her  face  a  moment.  It 
was  so  arch  and  fascinating  that  he  smiled,  while  a  brighter 
flush  came  into  his  cheeks. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  47 

"  Oh,  you  know  what  I  mean."  Then,  lowering  his  voice— 
"I  wish  you  did  care  enough  to  wear  the  willow  for  me." 

"You  are  cruel  ;  "  in  a  tone  that  was  sweet,  cunning  and 
pitiful,  and  ensnared  him  afresh. 

"  No,  I  couldn't  be  to  you." 

The  dialogue  had  been  carried  on  in  the  lowest  of  tones, 
both  feeling  intuitively  that  it  was  hardly  wise  to  proclaim  their 
interest  in  each  other  at  this  early  stage.  He  went,  but  soon 
returned,  and  she  bestowed  upon  him  a  most  beguiling  smile. 
Then  they  took  up  their  by-play. 

Lucy  had  to  stop  and  help  clear  away  the  fragments.  She 
washed  and  wiped  dishes  that  night  with  a  fervor  rarely  dis 
played  in  so  distasteful  a  cause.  She  must  see  Mr.  Thorndike 
for  a  few  moments. 

Fortune  favored  her.  It  always  seems  so  easy  to  take  the 
steps  whereby  one  makes  a  wreck  of  life,  so  hard  to  climb  the 
higher  and  rugged  path  leading  to  safety. 

It  was  nearly  eight  o'clock  when  the  supper  was  finished. 
For  the  next  hour  Mr.  Thorndike  was  the  hero  of  the  evening. 
There  had  not  been  such  a  positively  gay  "  Dorcas  "  for  a  long 
while.  No  one  but  he  missed  Lucy,  and  it  would  have  fretted 
him  a  good  deal  if  it  had  not  been  for  his  vanity.  He  had  an 
inordinate  share  of  that.  To  be  made  much  of  by  these  fool 
ish  girls  and  women  was  delightful.  He  liked  to  feel  himself 
of  importance,  and  some  of  the  slow  going  men  asked  him 
about  improvements  and  investigations  in  a  way  that  was  ex 
ceedingly  flattering.  He  was  shrewd  and  clever.  So  he  did 
very  well,  despite  the  thought  of  Lucy  washing  dishes,  or  gone 
to  bed. 

The  doors  were  all  open  now.  Some  of  'the  young  men, 
unusually  hilarious,  proposed  a  game  of  blind  man's  buff, 
which  would  have  been  severely  frowned  down  but  for  Mr. 
Thornd ike's  hearty  approbation,  for  he  thought  the  rest  must 
be  having  a  dreadful  dull  time  of  it. 

Lucy  dried  her  hands,  took  off  her  big  apron,  and  being 


48  Lucia;  Jfer  Problem. 

sent  out  of  doors  by  Hetty,  ran  around  to  the  back  hall  way, 
resolving  that  she  had  done  her  duty  by  the  kitchen.  Mr. 
Thorndike  stood  by  just  as  she  opened  it  and  caught  sight 
of  the  picture-like  face.  Instead  of  her  coming  in  he  slipped 
out,  and  caught  her  with  both  hands. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  struggling,  "  let  me  go  !  Some  one  will 
see  !  Oh,  please  !  " 

The  voice  was  so  deliciously  entreating!  He  thought 
he  would  like  to  be  coaxed  in  this  fashion  every  day  of  his 
life. 

"I  don't  mean  that  they  shall;"  ar.d  before  she  hardly 
knew  where  she  was,  he  had  whirled  her  down  the  path  with 
his  arm  around  her. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing  all  the  time — washing  dishes  ? " 

"  Yes,"  with  an  indignant  stamp  of  her  little  foot. 

There  was  a  moon,  but  the  sky  was  partially  filled  with 
drifting  clouds.  They  broke  away  just  at  this  moment,  and 
disclosed  her  in  her  radiant  loveliness.  A  tiny  fringe  of  soft 
rings  lay  around  the  edge  of  her  pearly  forehead. 

"  Why  won't  they  let  you  curl  your  hair  ? "  he  asked.  "  It's 
a  shame ! " 

"  Oh,  everybody  thinks  it  wicked  !  " 

She  thought  her  strongest  point  would  be  to  make  him 
admire  irreligion,  for  she  knew  well  that  she  could  lay  claim 
to  none  of  its  graces  except  in  the  natural  way.  At  heart  she 
felt  that  she  was  really  better  than  some  of  the  women  with 
whom  she  came  in  contact.  If  left  to  herself  she  would  have 
been  strictly  truthful,  noble  and  just  in  her  dealings,  warm  and 
generous  in  her  temper,  but  she  felt  afraid  that  there  must  be 
something  more  than  this.  Would  such  flimsy  faith  and  prin 
ciples  give  one  the  strength  of  a  martyr  ? 

"  What  a  set  of  humbugs  !  You  must  have  a  gay  time  of 
it!" 

"  Gay  time  !  Oh,  Mr.  Thorndike,  many  and  many  a  night 
I  cry  myself  to  sleep.  Many  a  time  have  I  wished  myself 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  49 

dead  !  What  was  I  born  for  ?  No  one  wants  me,  no  one 
cares  for  me  !  " 

It  was  a  very  honest  burst  of  feeling,  without  the  slighest 
thought  of  effect. 

He  felt  her  trembling  against  his  strong  arm. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  /care  for  you.  It's  abominable  that  you 
should  be  so  ill-used  !  Those  old  women  have  made  Rachel 
as  rigid  and  fussy  as  themselves.  Why,  your  mother  never 
was  ugly  to  her  /" 

"  Mamma  was  a  sweet  angel.  They  hate  me  for  her  sake. 
But  oh  !  let  us  go  in.  I  am  cold,  and  they  will  miss  you." 

There  was  another  reason.  She  was  not  quite  ready  to 
have  him  make  desperate  love  to  her.  And  yet  his  fond  tones 
and  strong  arm  seemed  so  good.  She  might  overlook  all  the 
little  things  that  were  displeasing  to  her. 

She  did  not  understand  then  why  these  attractive  and  re- 
pellant  forces  had  been  given.  She  was  so  very  ignorant  of 
the  world,  of  life,  and  most  sad  of  all,  her  own  soul. 

Mr.  Thorndike  had  received  a  check  to  his  ardor,  and  would 
not  have  plunged  heafllong  down  the  alluring  stream,  smooth  as 
the  tide  appeared.  A  question  came  in  his  mind  as  to  whether 
Mr.  Garth  meant  to  portion  his  daughters  alike. 

I  told  you  in  the  beginning  that  he  was  not  a  noble  or 
high-minded  man.  How  Lucy  would  have  turned  from  him  if 
she  could  have  read  these  sordid  thoughts  ! 

She  would  not  go  in  with  him,  but  ran  round  the  kitchen 
way  again  and  joined  the  party  after  the  merriment  had  sub 
sided,  bearing  with  wonderful  patience  the  many  exclamations 
of,  "  Oh,  you  should  have  been  here  !  There  never  was  such 
a  nice  Dorcas  !  " 

Mr.  Thorndike  managed  to  exchange  several  little  sentences 
with  Lucy.  At  last  the  usual  hymns  were  proposed,  and  here 
he  again  distinguished  himself.  He  had  a  fine  bass  voice. 
He  was  besieged  immediately  to  come  to  church  and  sit  in  the 
choir. 


50  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

There  was  a  prayer  made  by  Mr.  Howe,  and  then  the  dis 
persion  commenced.  Miss  Kip  lingered,  promising  to  come 
over  and  help  pack  the  box  for  Mrs.  Freeman.  The  next 
meeting  was  to  be  at  Mrs.  Bowers'.  "  Of  course  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike  would  come — they  had  a  good  many  gentlemen  members, 
even  if  they  couldn't  sew." 

"  But  I  suppose  they  pay  ? "  and  Mr.  Thorndike  extracted 
a  bill  from  his  waistcoat  pocket.  "  I'll  come  till  this  runs  out, 
and  then  you  must  tell  me." 

Miss  Kip  simpered  in  a  delighted  state  of  mind,  for  her 
sharp  eye  caught  sight  of  a  V.  Rachel  looked  delighted  with 
her  hero. 

"  I'm  sure  we're  very,  very  grateful ;"  and  Miss  Kip  pressed 
his  hand  with  a  sigh.  If  he  were  only  a  little  older  ! 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  51 


CHAPTER  V. 

AFTERWARD. 

MISS  KIP  went  to  the  dressing-room  with  her  arm  around 
Rachel. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said  in  a  whining  tone,  which  she  meant  for 
sweetness,  "  he's  a  most  worthy  young  man.  His  father  was 
the  salt  of  the  earth,  and  it  will  be  your  blessed  duty  and  priv 
ilege  to  bring  him  back  to  the  covenant  of  grace.  I  see  it 
all,  my  dear  Rachel,  and  you  have  my  prayers  for  your  happi 
ness.  It  will  be  clearly  a  Christian  duty,  and  he  will  make 
an  excellent  husband.  To  think  of  his  giving  me  five  dollars  ! 
Why,  we'll  have  to  make  him  a  life  member  !  " 

Rachel  Garth  blushed  in  her  swarthy  fashion.  It  was  not 
ill-pleasing  to  know  that  some  one  had  remarked  his  attention. 

"  Father  speaks  very  highly  of  him,"  she  said  modestly. 

"  He's  worthy  of  it,  I'm  sure.  He  lacks  only  the  '  one 
thing  needful,'  and  you'll  be  the  instrument  of  saving  grace. 
It's  worth  waiting  for,  Rachel.  He  is  just  about  the  right  age, 
and  settled  in  his  habits.  I  wish  you  joy  ;"  and  yet  Miss  Kip 
sighed  as  she  enveloped  her  head  in  a  gray  Nubia,  which 
made  it  look  higher  than  ever. 

Rachel  went  down  with  her,  leaving  two  lamps  burning  in 
the  room,  in  the  height  of  her  complacency.  Lucy  started  from 
the  nook  below  the  bedstead,  where  she  had  stooped  to  pick 
up  a  stray  shawl  pin. 

"  I  wonder  if  she  thinks  he  will  marry  her  ?  "  and  the  child 
laughed  scornfully.  "  Old  as  she  is,  and  she  never  could  have 


52  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

been  pretty  when  he  first  knew  her  !  Oh,  Rachel  Garth,  you 
think  you  are  keen  and  far-sighted — you  can  stay  at  home  and 
drudge,  since  you  like  it  so  well,  but  /mean  to  ride  in  my  car 
riage.  He  almost  said  that  he  loved  me  !  " 

The  lights  were  out  presently,  and  both  girls  dreamed  of 
Warren  Thorndike.  I'm  not  sure  but  Rachel  thought  the 
most  truly  of  his  happiness,  both  temporal  and  spiritual. 

Mr.  Thorndike  spent  nearly  all  the  following  morning  at 
the  mill.  He  had  no  fault  to  find  with  Mr.  Garth's  manage 
ment  of  his  capital,  and  he  concluded  that  he  would  not  with 
draw  it.  Mr.  Garth  endeavored  to  persuade  him  to  give  up 
roving,  settle  at  Dedham  and  marry. 

"  You've  done  capitally,  Garth  !  This  musty  old  pile  of 
wools  and  dyes  is  almost  as  productive  as  coppers.  Your 
girls  will  have  a  handsome  start !  " 

He  thought  that  quite  an  adroit  move. 

"  Yes,  if  they  marry  to  suit  me.  Rachel  has  been  an  ex 
cellent  daughter,  an  efficient  and  economical  housekeeper — 
and  she  will  prove  a  treasure  to  the  man  who  gets  her.  But 
Lucy — "  and  the  father  paused  in  perplexity. 

"And  Lucy?"  said  Mr.  Thorndike,  with  more  interest 
than  he  cared  to  avow. 

"The  child  is  wayward  and  rebellious.  Of  course  you 
know,  Thorndike,  that  my  second  marriage  was  not  a  happy 
one.  Lucy  inherits  her  mother's  fatal  beauty  and  vanity.  She 
might  easily  become  the  prey  of  some  designing  villain,  but  so 
sure  as  she  ever  marries  against  my  will,  not  one  dollar  shall 
she  have  1 " 

"  Oh,  she  is  not  likely  to,"  was  Thorndike's  careless  re 
sponse.  He  was  quite  satisfied,  but  he  would  win  Lucy  before 
making  the  subject  public. 

They  went  on  skirmishing  in  a  light  way,  neither  exactly 
showing  his  hand,  but  when  they  parted  Mr.  Garth  renewed 
his  cordial  invitation. 

"  Drop  in  any  time,"  he  said.    "  You'll  always  be  welcome. 


Lucia:    Her  Problem.  53 

Your  father  and  I  were  good  friends,  and  if  it  comes  to  any 
thing  nearer,  I'd  be  proud  to  call  you  son." 

"  Thank  you." 

Thorndike  wrung  his  hand.  The  matter  was  settled  then, 
only  he  had  a  vague  idea  that  Mr.  Garth  much  preferred  that 
he  should  take  Rachel.  He  proposed  to  have  all  the  good 
things  of  this  life,  brightness,  youth  and  beauty,  since  they 
would  be  as  well  dowered.  He  had  an  idea  then  that  he  was 
actually  in  love  with  Lucy.  He  liked  to  yield  to  that  peculiar 
and  subtile  sway  of  hers,  he  liked  to  watch  her  deep  eager 
eyes  and  see  the  smiles  flit  around  her  small  scarlet  mouth. 
He  determined  now  to  see  as  much  of  her  as  possible.  Being 
wayward  and  rebellious  did  not  in  the  least  intimidate  him, 
brave  man  that  he  was. 

That  any  person  in  the  full  possession  of  his  senses  should 
prefer  Lucy  to  Rachel  never  once  entered  Mr.  Garth's  mind. 
He  had  daily  proofs  of  her  worth  and  ability,  and  knew  that 
she  was  her  sister's  superior  in  nearly  every  respect.  He  quite 
forgot  that  he  had  once  fallen  in  love  with  a  pretty  face,  while 
Miss  Kip  and  several  others  whose  sterling  qualities  were  un 
questionable  stood  by  and  sighed  over  the  sacrifice. 

So  he  said  to  Rachel  that  evening. 

"  I  have  almost  persuaded  Thorndike  to  take  an  active  in 
terest  in  the  mill.  He  or  some  one  is  very  much  needed." 

"  Yes,"  was  Rachel's  quiet,  approving  response. 

"  And  I  think  he  will,"  rubbing  his  hands  in  the  light  of 
the  blaze,  as  if  the  idea  afforded  him  great  satisfaction.  "  I 
think  he  will,  and — Rachel." 

Rachel  glanced  up  when  the  pause  became  unusually 
long.  Her  father  appeared  to  be  studying  her  face  intently. 

"  It  is  as  good  as  settled,  I  may  say.  He  spoke  to  me  to 
day.  I  shall  be  proud  to  give  you  to  so  worthy  a  young  man." 

Lucy,  who  sat  quite  out  of  range  of  these  two,  dawdling 
over  some  sewing  that  she  hated,  felt  every  nerve  tingle  with 
a  thrill  of  surprise.  The  fair  face  was  scarlet,  and  she  bent  it 


54  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

still  lower  to  hide  her  confusion,  and  perhaps  a  little  indigna 
tion. 

Rachel  smiled  complacently,  that  is,  her  severe  look  relaxed 
a  trifle,  and  a  faint  curve  came  to  her  usually  straight,  thin 
lips.  Somehow  she  felt  very  proud  of  this  admirer.  She,  as 
well  as  Lucy,  fancied  that  he  was  superior  to  the  men  they 
were  in  the  habit  of  meeting. 

Could  it  be  possible  that  he  had  spoken  !  Lucy  thought. 
What  then  was  the  explanation  of  his  conduct  toward  her  ? 
Did  he,  like  the  others,  consider  her  of  small  importance,  to 
be  toyed  with  and  set  aside  as  the  whim  or  prudence  dictated ! 
Perhaps  that  was  it — prudence.  She  gave  her  head  an  angry 
toss  and. ran  the  needle  into  her  small,  white  finger. 

"  He  shall  see,''  she  whispered  to  herself,  "  he  shall  see  I 
am  not  to  be  trifled  with.  A  man  would  be  base  indeed  to 
say  such  things  to  a  woman  and  not  mean  any  thing ! " 

And  then  Lucy  remembered  the  kiss  with  a  sensation  of 
shame.  Surely  it  had  not  sprung  from  any  boldness  on  her 
part,  for  she  could  not  have  guessed  that  he  meant  to  take  such 
a  liberty.  But  she  would  be  wary  in  future.  If  he  married 
Rachel  he  must  be  therewith  content.  She  did  not  propose  to 
bestow  any  sisterly  fondness  upon  Rachel's  husband,  no  mat 
ter  who  he  might  be. 

For  several  days  Lucy  nursed  her  indignation  and  kept  it 
up  at  white  heat.  In  the  mean  while  Mr.  Thorndike  called 
and  spent  the  evening.  She  sat  in  the  kitchen  with  Hetty  and 
darned  stockings,  listening  with  a  very  inattentive  ear  to  the 
old  woman's  gossip. 

"I  always  knowed  Rachel  would  marry  well,"  was  the 
starting-point  on  which  she  rang  the  changes.  "  I've  said  a 
many  time — don't  you  be  in  a  hurry,  Rachel.  There's  allers 
as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as  is  caught,  and  if  you  get  a  good  hus 
band  you  won't  be  sorry  for  waiting ;  and  if  he's  a  poor  stick, 
you'll  have  years  enough  to  live  with  him.  And  she'll  get  a 
good  one  !  she  deserves  it,  too  1 " 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  55 

She  did  not  know  whether  it  was  Hetty's  harrangue  or  the 
sound  of  that  strong,  inspiriting  voice  sending  a  reminder 
through  chinks  and  crevices  that  so  stirred  the  angry  blood 
within  her.  When  the  last  stocking  was  finished  she  lighted 
her  candle. 

"  You're  not  goin'  to  bed  ? "  exclaimed  Hetty  in  dim  amaze. 

"  I  am  going  to  bed  !  "  biting  off  the  words  in  a  savage 
fashion. 

"  Well,  the  dear  bless  us  !  "  muttered  Hetty.  "  That  child 
has  an  uncommon  temper.  Why  don't  she  snap  off  one's  head." 

The  child  crawled  into  bed  without  studying  her  pretty 
face  in  the  cracked  mirror.  What  was  golden  hair  or  pearly 
cheek  if  there  was  no  one  to  please  with  it — no  one  to  admire  ? 

Mr.  Thorndike's  next  advent  was  on  Sunday.  And  so 
when  Rachel  said —  "  Oh,  Hetty,  I  promised  to  send  some  of 
this  custard  over  to  old  Mrs.  Bowen,  will  you  take  it  after  sup 
per  ?  "  Lucy  offered  to  go  immediately. 

"  She  will  be  glad  to  have  it,  I  know,"  returned  Rachel, 
amazed  at  the  proposal. 

So  Lucy  went  and  stayed  to  tea,  a  heinous  offence  in  her 
father's  eyes,  for  which  he  called  her  to  account.  Had  she  not 
been  forbidden  to  do  such  a  thing  without  permission  ? 

"  I  dare  say  Rachel  was  obliged,"  was  the  answer  in  a  dry, 
hard  tone.  "  Perhaps  it  is  not  a  bad  thing  for  her  and  her  lov 
er  to  have  a  fair  field." 

Mr.  Garth  hardly  understood  this,  and  hesitated  so  long 
whether  to  resent  it  as  insolence  or  not  that  Lucy  continued — 

"  I  am  sure  Mrs.  Bowen  needed  a  little  company.  You 
praise  Rachel  for  visiting  the  poor  and  the  sick,  and  why  is  not 
the  deed  as  good  when  performed  by  me  ?  " 

"  You  would  do  better  to  speak  more  respectfully,"  he  re 
turned  with  a  lofty  air. 

But  Lucy  was  very  miserable  it  must  be  confessed.  Not 
that  she  was  in  love  with  Mr.  Thorndike,  though  it  stung  her 
keenly  to  think  that  she  had  been  trifled  with,  and  then  neglect- 


56  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

ed.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she  hated  everybody.  Her  emo 
tions  varied  as  easily  as  her  thoughts  traversed  space.  A  waft 
of  hope  could  transport  her  to  the  highest  state  of  satisfaction, 
and  the  next  instant  she  could  be  plunged  into  the  blackest 
despair. 

The  despair  predominated  for  the  next  few  days.  She  was 
captious,  idle,  refractory,  and  as  great  a  torment  to  herself  as 
to  any  one  else.  So  one  clear,  cold  morning  she  went  out  to 
do  some  errands  and  to  walk  off  the  nervous  excitement  that 
was  next  to  fever. 

Crossing  a  street  she  saw  Mr.  Thorndike  at  the  end  of  the 
next  square.  The  tall,  full  figure,  with  its  brisk  air  was  unmis 
takable.  Should  she  go  on,  or  turn  ?  One  moment  she  was 
wild  to  meet  him,  at  the  next  ruled  by  the  utmost  disdain. 

He  settled  her  doubt,  however,  for  he  came  striding  towards 
her.  She  had  an  uncomfortable  consciousness  of  looking  shab 
by  and  envied  the  bright  girl  opposite  who  tripped  along  in 
ruffled  skirt,  velvet  cloak,  and  dainty  hat.  If  she  only  could 
dress  like  other  people  ? 

He  had  clasped  the  hands  in  their  cheap  worsted  gloves, 
and  peered  through  the  flimsy  veil. 

"  I  thought  I  was  never  to  see  you  again,"  he  began  vehe 
mently. 

"  As  if  it  would  have  made  much  difference  !  " 

There  was  a  fine,  cool  sarcasm  in  her  tone,  and  she  \voukl 
have  withdrawn  her  hands. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  he  asked  in  dull  amaze. 

"  What  I  said,"  and  her  laugh  had  a  bitter,  dainty  flavor. 

"  Lucy,  are  you  angry  with  me  ? " 

His  tone  was  so  downright  honest  and  earnest  that  she 
glanced  upward  involuntarily. 

"  Yes." 

"  I  have  not  seen  you  since  that  night,  you  know.  I've 
been  to  the  house  twice." 

"To  see  Rachel.     I  understand  it,  Mr.  Thorndike.     I  am 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  57 

only  seventeen,  it  is  true,  but  I  am  not  quite  a  child.  I  have 
some  pride  and  some  feeling,  and  a  good  deal  of  respect  for 
myself,  when  you  come  to  that !  " 

Her  face  flushed  a  lovely  scarlet — he  saw  that  through  the 
veil,  also  the  dark  eyes  that  looked  as  if  they  might  fill  with 
tears  the  next  instant,  so  tremulous  were  the  lids. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  and  she  turned  away. 

He  turned  with  her.  Obeying  an  add  impulse  he  drew  her 
hand  through  his  arm,  so  tightly  indeed  that  she  was  compelled 
to  keep  step  by  the  very  power  that  he  put  into  the  mo'vement. 

"  What  is  it  all  about,  Lucy  ? "  he  began  in  a  beseeching 
tone.  "Why  did  you  hide  away  when  I  came?  You  must 
have  known  that  I  wanted  to  see  you." 

"  How  could  I  know  ?  Mr.  Thorndike,  this  is  ungentleman- 
ly,  nay  worse,  dishonest,  when  you  have  as  good  as  asked  my 
father—" 

Lucy  paused.  Up  to  this  point  her  indignation  had  been 
honest,  but  now  she  colored  with  a  sense  of  shame.  She  knew 
that  -he  liked  her.  This  clasp  of  the  arm,  this  warmth  and 
tremor  of  the  voice,  and  these  eyes  devouring  her  with  troubled 
and  questioning  looks,  all  told  it.  To  go  any  farther  would  be 
like  forcing  him  into  an  explanation. 

"  I  had  a  slight  talk  with  your  father — "  and  a  light  seemed 
to  dawn  upon  him,  for  the  fresh  face  turned  a  deeper  hue — 
"  you  can't  mean — you  haven't  misunderstood — " 

She  held  her  breath.  For  which  one  did  he  care.  It  had 
gone  too  far  to  remain  unexplained. 

"  It  is  Rachel,"  she  said,  "  and  you  have  no  right  to — please 
to  let  me  go,"  she  begged  almost  piteously,  her  eyes  downcast 
and  filled  with  strange  tears. 

"  No,  it  isn't  Rachel.  You  haven't  much  vanity,  or  pene 
tration,  I  was  going  to  say,  or  you  would  have  guessed.  Why, 
I  love  you  !  Zounds  !  a  man  must  be  a  fool  not  to  choose  youth 
and  beautv  instead  of — " 


58  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  But  Rachel  is  good,"  she  interposed,  with  a  sudden  twinge 
of  remorse.  "  She  will  make  a  better  wife  than  I,  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike.  She  loves  to  work,  and  I  don't ;  she  understands  house 
keeping  and  cooking,  which  I  hate.  Then  I'd  always  h'ke  to 
be  dressed  pretty — but  I'm  afraid  it  would  cost  a  good  deal ; 
and  she  is  content  with  a  little." 

"  I  want  to  see  you  look  like  a  real  beauty ;  I'm  sure  you 
can  be  as  grand  as  any  of  them  !  I  mean  you  to  have  silks, 
and  diamonds,  and  all  that;  and  if  you  like,  I'll  buy  the  Cun 
ningham  place.  What  made  you  think  that  I  was  in  love  with 
Rachel?" 

A  glimmering  vision  flashed  before  Lucy's  eyes.  Poor 
child,  caught  as  easily  as  the  most  brilliant  butterfly  of  them 
all  ! 

"  And  you  don't  love  her  ? " 

She  wanted  to  be  sure.  She  was  quite  ready  to  crowd  out 
Rachel,  and  take  the  good  things  of  this  life  that  had  been 
dealt  so  sparingly  to  her  thus  far.  Now  that  the  alluring  bait 
was  within  reach,  she  could  not  let  it  slip  through  her  fingers. 

He  was  delighted,  taking  the  question  as  if  actuated  by 
pique  or  jealousy,  or  perhaps  best  of  all,  love.  Clasping  the 
small  hand  fondly,  he  sai.l — 

"  Set  your  heart  at  rest,  inv  darling.  I  don't  love  any  one 
but  you ;  and  I've  loved  you  since  that  first  night  when  you 
came  and  leaned  your  arm  on  the  mantel,  and  your  beautiful 
curls  were  like  a  shower  of  gold.  As  if  I  could  have  cared 
for—" 

"  Hush,"  she  said  softly,  touched  by  the  tender  flattery. 
I  believe  with  all  her  frivolity  and  ambition,  she  would  have 
been  kinder  towards  Rachel  than  her  sister  to  her,  had  the 
case  been  reversed. 

"  How  generous  you  are  !  "  he  exclaimed  in  slow  amaze. 
"  Why  you  know  they  say  handsome  people  are  always  selfish 
and  vain  :  but,  by  Jove !  you're  enough  better  than  some  of 
them  with  their  long  faces  and  sanctimonious  ways." 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  59 

"  But  I'm  not  very  good ;  I  don't  want  you  to  believe  that 
and  be  disappointed." 

"  I'm  not  afraid,"  was  his  confident  reply. 

Then  they  walked  on  in  silence,  neither  heeding  the  direc 
tion  of  their  steps. 

"  But  you  haven't  said  that  you  loved  me,"  he  began,  ab 
ruptly. 

Did  she  love  him  ?  What  was  love  ?  She  had  a  curious 
feeling  about  it,  a  presentiment  that  if  the  matter  was  sifted  to 
the  finest  grains  of  truth,  it  would  be  impossible  for  her  to 
love  this  man  beside  her  with  a  high  and  noble  affection.  It 
was  more  for  what  he  could  give  her  and  the  pleasure  of  being 
taken  out  of  this  miserable  life,  than  any  touch  of  earnest  re 
gard. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said  hesitatingly.  "  It  is  so  sudden 
and  strange  !  And  I  have  never  thought  how  it  would  be. 
You  are  so  much  older — " 

"  But  you  won't  mind  the  difference  ?  "  he  asked,  anxious 
ly.  If  he  could  only  go  back  to  six-and-twenty  for  her  sake  ! 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  so  much  the  years  as  the — the 
love.  Oh,  are  you  sure  that  you  will  always  be  good  to  me, 
and  not  get  tired  when  you  find  me  vain  and  foolish  and  full 
of  faults  ?  I  believe  that  killed  poor  mamma  !  She  wasn't  like 
them  you  know,  though  she  was  good  and  sweet,  and  if  any  one 
had  only  cared  for  her,  it  might  have  been  so  different." 

It  was  very  easy  to  promise  there,  with  her  trembling  on 
his  arm.  His  slow  and  obtuse  soul  could  no  more  take  in  the 
full  and  fine  nature  of  her  demands  than  it  could  have  soared 
to  the  sun.  He  was  thinking  that  to  give  her  a  pretty  house 
and  elegant  clothes,  to  pet  and  admire  her  continually,  was 
love  in  its  breadth  and  fulness. 

"  Yes,  I  will  always  be  good  to  you ;  and  you'll  try  to  love 
me,  won't  you  ?  "  in  a  pleading  tone. 

"  I'll  try — and  I'm  sure  that  I  shall  succeed  some  time.  It 
has  only  been  a  little  while  since  we  first  met,  you  know  ? " 


60  Lucia:    Her  Problem. 

Her  voice  had  such  a  soft,  coaxing  strain  in  it  that  it  won 
him  entirely. 

"  Would  you  like  the  Cunningham  house  ? "  with  a  little 
hesitation,  as  if  he  was  not  quite  sure  of  its  being  good 
enough. 

"  Oh,  it  would  be  lovely  to  go  and  live  there  !  The  grounds 
are  so  beautiful  in  summer,  and  such  hosts  of  flowers  !  I  love 
them  so  much." 

"It  can  be  bought  for  a  mere  song,  cash  clown.  Your  fa 
ther  recommended  it  as  a  speculation.  I  think  I'll  look  in 
some  day — would  you  like  to  see  it  ?  " 

She  blushed  vividly — and  he,  catching  a  glimpse  of  the 
scarlet,  laughed. 

"  Why  yes,  it  will  be  your  house — so  why  shouldn't  you  see 
it?" 

"  I  am  afraid  father  will  think  it  too — too— expensive,"  she 
said  hesitatingly. 

"  Oh,  I  shall  not  ask  him  for  any  thing,  you  know,"  in  his 
commonplace  way.  "  He  has  only  you  two — and  he  said  that 
if  you  married  to  suit  him,  you  should  have  your  share,  and  that 
he  wouldn't  object  to  me  as  a  son-in-law.  Rachel's  name  was 
never  mentioned." 

"  And  you  thought  of  me  even  then  ?  "  she  rejoined,  clasp 
ing  his  arm  with  a  sudden  impulse  of  tenderness,  her  heart 
beating  quicker  at  this  proof  of  his  regard. 

Oh,  Lucy,  if  you  had  known  the  mercenary  depth  of  that 
first  impulse,  you  would  not  have  clung  to  him  so  eagerly  ! 

He  rather  congratulated  himself  as  being  in  luck  all  the 
way  round. 

"  Yes.     And  about  the  house  ? " 

"  Oh,  if  it  pleases  you  that  will  be  enough  ;"  she  made  an 
swer,  bashfully. 

He  liked  the  manner  in  which  she  deferred  to  him,  and  he 
resolved  that  she  should  have  whatever  pleased  her,  as  well. 

"  Oh,  where  are  we  going  ? ''  and  Lucy  stopped  suddenly. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  61 

"  I  was  to  do  an  errand  for  Rachel,  the  last  of  all — and  I've 
rambled  quite  out  of  my  way.  It  is  almost  noon." 

"  No  matter,  we  will  go  back.  And  now  I  want  to  know 
why  you  hid  yourself  when  I  called  ?  I  expected  to  see  you." 

"  I  didn't  hide.  I've  never  been  invited  in  the  room  when 
there  was  company,  unless  it  was  old  ladies  or  a  Dorcas." 

"  But  you'll  come  now  ?  " 

That  arrangement  was  difficult  to  make.  When  it  came  to 
the  point,  Lucy  was  afraid  to  take  a  decisi/e  step.  She  was 
not  sure  that  it  was  hardly  safe  to  confess  so  soon  ;  and  then 
she  had  a  young  girl's  foolish  romance  concerning  the  charm 
of  secrets. 

"  Let  me  think  about  it,"  she  begged  ;  and  finally  he  consent 
ed,  provided  that  she  reached  the  conclusion  speedily. 

He  would  have  accompanied  her  home,  but  this  she  posi 
tively  forbade.  Dinner  was  nearly  over,  for  Mr.  Garth  would 
not  have  waited  for  the  queen.  Rachel  had  marvelled  at  her 
sister's  long  absence,  and  now  Mr.  Garth  had  reached  a  very 
exact  and  exacting  mood.  Where  had  she  been  ?  Had  she 
made  any  calls  ?  Had  she  met  any  of  those  idle,  trifling  girls 
against  whom  her  father  had  repeatedly  war  ned  her  ? 

Lucy  was  thankful  that  no  questions  were  asked  which  she 
could  not  answer  with  perfect  truth.  For  the  rest,  she  volun 
teered  no  information,  and,  when  her  father  questioned  her 
closely,  took  refuge  in  a  rather  haughty  silence. 

Rachel  left  her  to  herself  and  her  thoughts.  They  were  a 
chaotic  mass  indeed.  Her  mind  seemed  to  change  with  ev 
ery  varying  mood,  and  withal  her  secret  weighed  upon  her 
spirits.  Had  the  elder  been  keener  eyed,  she  would  have 
found  sufficient  grounds  for  suspicion  of  some  kind. 

Matters  were  in  this  state  on  Sunday  as  the  congregation 
clustered  around  the  old  church  doors  for  an  interchange  of 
friendly  or  curious  greeting.  Mr.  Thorndike  was  conspicuous 
among  them.  He  elbowed  his  way  to  Mr.  Garth's  vicinity, 
hardly  thinking  of  the  watchful  eyes  that  were  upon  him.  He 


62  Lucia  :  Her  Problem. 

shook  hands  very  cordially  with  Rachel,  it  must  be  confessed, 
while  Lucy  drew  back  in  confusion,  and  turned  a  trifle  pale. 
They  all  kept  together  until  the  groups  thronged  out  upon  the 
sidewalk. 

"  Lucy  ! "  exclaimed  her  father  peremptorily. 

Lucy  fell  back  a  step  or  two  beside  him. 

It  was  a  proud  moment  in  Rachel  Garth's  life.  She  knew 
that  dozens  of  envious  eyes  were  upon  her,  and  she  also  had 
a  consciousness  that  Warren  Thorndike  was  held  in  rather  su 
perior  esteem.  As  rich  now,  perhaps,  as  her  father,  in  the 
very  prime  of  life,  and  really  fine-looking — who  among  her 

juaintances  had  married  as  well  ?     So  she  held  her  head 
Mnewhat  loftily,  admiring  the  man  who   walked  beside  her 
with  a  feeling  that  surprised  herself. 

He  meanwhile  bit  his  lip,  thinking  of  the  fair  face  and 
slender  figure  just  behind,  that  he  could  not  even  see.  Ra 
chel's  platitudes  were  wearisome,  her  very  voice  seemed  harsh 
and  cold  contrasted  with  the  other.  Marry  her,  indeed  ! 

He  saw  very  little  of  Lucy,  though  he  accepted  the  invita 
tion  to  dine  solely  for  that  purpose.  She  was  more  than  dis 
creet,  and  Rachel  bestowed  upon  her  a  grim  smile  that  was 
absolutely  approving.  The  little  witch  enjoyed  this  state  of 
affairs  as  she  saw  the  sharp  frown  cross  her  lover's  brow,  and 
the  gnawing  of  the  lip  indicating  displeasure. 

"  He  does  love  me  !  "  she  thought  exultingly. 

Rachel  spent  but  a  very  few  moments  in  the  kitchen. 
Lucy  assisted  Hetty  as  usual,  washed  her  hands  and  gave  her 
hair  a  little  brush.  Then  she  put  on  her  hat  and  cloak,  as  the 
hour  for  Sunday-school  was  at  hand. 

She  began  to  feel  somewhat  disappointed.  A  brief  sen 
tence  or  a  clasp  of  the  hand  would  have  satisfied  her,  but  that 
was  quite  impossible  now.  She  must  go  away  and  l^t  him  be 
lieve — what  ? 

And  then  she  bethought  herself  that  she  must  make  a 
journey  into  his  presence.  Her  father  never  allowed  her  any 


Lucia:    Her  Problem.  63 

money  beyond  the  present  needs,  so  she  had  to  go  to  him  reg 
ularly  for  her  small  missionary  stipend.  She  opened  the  door, 
but  her  father  was  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  room,  perusing 
his  religious  paper.  So  she  preferred  her  request  in  a 
whisper. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Lu — Miss  Garth?"  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike  asked,  coloring  and  correcting  the  familiarity. 

"  To  Sunday-school,"  announced  her  father  in  a  pompous 
manner. 

"  I  think  I'll  walk  down  the  street  with  you,"  he  declared 
in  a  very  deliberate  fashion. 

Lucy  trembled  in  every  limb,  and  half  expected  that 
father  would  command  her  to  stay  at  home.     The  frightene 
look  rather  won  upon  Rachel,  who  attributed  it  to   surprise 
and  humility.     And  then,  as  he  was  to  be  her  brother  some 
day,  the  freedom  was  quite  allowable. 

"  No,  don't  go,  Thorndike,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Garth. 

"  Indeed  I  must.  I  wish  to  see  a  person  particularly ;" 
and  Mr.  Thorndike  rose. 

"  My  friend,"  said  Mr.  Garth,  "  I  hope  soon  to  see  you 
lay  aside  worldly  cares  on  such  a  day  as  this." 

"I  don't  know  that  it  can  justly  be  called  a  worldly  care," 
Mr.  Thorndike  returned,  with  a  little  laugh  at  his  fancied  clev 
erness. 

Lucy's  face  was  scarlet.  She  drew  her  veil  down  hurried 
ly,  opened  the  hall  door,  and  was  half  way  through  the  small 
court-yard  before  Mr.  Thorndike  had  said  his  adieus. 

He  soon  strode  up  to  her,  but  her  heart  was  beating  fiercely. 

"  This  won't  do,  you  know,"  he  began  in  his  abrupt  way. 
"  I  can't  stand  it,  and  I  may  as  well  ask  your  father  at  once. 
To  be  put  off  with  /^continually." 

"  Oh,  if  you  do  care  for  me,  be  patient,"  Lucy  exclaimed  pa 
thetically. 

"  A  man  likes  to  see  a  little  of  the  woman  he  loves,"  was 
the  grim  reply. 


64  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

"  It  will  come  right  sometime,"  she  pleaded.  "  Only  wait 
until  we  are  sure  that  we  love  each  other ! " 

"  I  am  sure  now." 

Her  list  of  arguments  had  not  reached  its  end.  Somehow 
he  could  not  resist  her  pretty  entreaties.  She  begged  for  a 
week  or  a  fortnight)  and  promised  to  think  of  him  every  mo 
ment,  and  he  left  her  at  the  church  door  a  good  deal  dissatis 
fied,  but  more  in  love  than  ever  on  account  of  the  obstacles  in 
his  path,  after  the  fashion  of  human  nature. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SHOWING     HANDS. 

LUCY  was  late  for  Sunday-school,  and  Miss  Kip  e 
her  severely.  That  she  should  be  absent  and  inatten 
was  not  wonderful ;  and  she  was  glad  at  last  to  go  up  sta' 
and  take  her  seat  in  the  quiet  end  of  the  pew  and  resign  her 
self  to  dreams.  Little  did  Rachel  or  her  father  imagine  the 
worldly  thoughts  that  held  a  carnival  in  the  busy  brain — per 
haps  she  hardly  realized  it  herself. 

She  was  honestly  afraid  of  making  her  secret  known.  It 
might  be  possible  that  her  father  would  forbid  any  marriage 
until  she  was  twenty-one,  almost  four  years.  Did  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike  love  her  well  enough  now  to  remain  true  through  such  a 
probation  ?  She  was  afraid  not.  With  that  grand  house 
looming  up  before  her,  and  the  promised  luxuries  of  dress, 
she  hardly  dared  risk  and  lose.  She  knew  so  little  of  the 
world  and  life. 

Thursday  evening  of  that  week  another  Dorcas  was  held 
at  Mrs.  Bowers's.  Mr.  Thorndike  did  not  make  his  appear 
ance  until  then.  He  meant  to  treat  Lucy  to  a  little  show  of 
coldness,  but  fortunately  finding  her  alone  in  one  of  the  odd 
nooks  in  which  the  house  abounded,  he  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  of  stealing  a  caress.  She  was  in  a  fond  mood  too, 
a  sort  of  tender,  clinging  passion,  that  won  upon  him  im 
mensely.  And  then  he  coaxed  her  into  promising  to  walk 
with  him  the  next  afternoon,  as  she  had  an  errand  to  call  her 
out. 


GG  Lucia  :    Her  ProUem. 

She  saw  the  nods  and  winks,  and  the  pointed  sentences 
with  which  Rachel  was  greeted.  How  she  could  take  it  so 
calmly  and  complacently  puzzled  Lucy,  who  blushed  when 
ever  any  one  gave  her  a  sudden  look,  and  found  her  heart 
beating  loudly  at  the  slightest  word.  What  this  would  event 
ually  prove  to  Rachel  she  did  not  pause  to  consider.  There 
was  no  fine  tenderness  between  these  two  girls,  no  real  love 
indeed,  though  one  possessed  a  fond  and  loving  nature. 

Mr.  Garth,  much  to  his  dissatisfaction,  was  compelled  to 
escort  home  some  ladies,  so  Mr.  Thorndike  took  the  two  girls, 
's  soft  hand  lay  in  his,  and  received  numberless  tokens 
ection. 

"  Write  me  a  note  for  to-morrow,"  he  whispered  with  his 
good-by. 

Lucy  went  straight  to  bed,  but  Rachel  sat  up  for  her  father. 
Some  way  he  felt  a  trifle  disappointed  at  not  finding  Mr. 
Thorndike  there,  though  he  did  not  express  this  to  his  daughter. 

I  hardly  know  why  Rachel  Garth  felt  so  secure,  and  placed 
such  perfect  confidence  in  a  man  who  had  not  as  yet  allowed 
himself  the  first  lover-like  word  or  action,  unless  it  chimed  in 
with  some  peculiarity  of  her  nature.  She  would  have  been 
astonished  by  the  freedom  with  which  he  treated  Lucy.  Her 
ideas  ran  in  the  old  orthodox  channel  of  propriety.  And  it 
might  have  been  because  she  never  dreamed  of  a  rival  in  her 
sister.  Her  father's  opinions  about  Lucy  were  hers  ;  besides, 
she  looked  upon  her  as  a  hardly  grown-up  child,  and  little  sus 
pected  that  one  step  had  taken  her  into  womanhood. 

Lucy  met  her  lover,  and  during  the  walk  they  exchanged 
notes.  Hers  had  been  a  great  source  of  perplexity,  and  was 
brief  as  well  as  proper.  She  had  no  opportunity  to  peruse  his 
until  after  supper,  when  she  made  an  excuse  to  go  to  her  room 
for  a  dress  that  needed  mending. 

A  love  letter  in  the  fullest  sense.  An  ardent,  persuasive, 
pleading  missive,  begging  for  her  love,  for  liberty  to  speak,  for 
the  privilege  of  seeing  her  openly,  picturing  their  future  happi- 


Lucia :  Her  Problem.  G7 

ness  together,  the  impatience  and  tenderness  of  his  regard,  and 
giving  her  pet  names  that  were  sweet  to  linger  over.  If  it  did 
not  reach  the  highest  point  of  delicacy  and  refinement,  she  was 
hardly  able  to  perceive  this.  She  had  not  attained  to  any  of 
the  loftier  summits  of  womanhood  from  whence  she  could  look 
down  with  clear  eyes  upon  her  own  soul  and  its  needs.  The 
love  which  he  offered  her  was  so  above  any  thing  that  had 
come  in  her  narrow  life,  that  she  accepted  it  as  a  supreme 
good. 

The  letters  and  stolen  interviews  went  on  for  a  few  weeks 
but  though  Warren  Thorndike's  conscience  was  not  touc 
his  selfishness  was,  and  he  made  so  strong  a  protest  that  U 
was  forced  into  a  reluctant  assent.  He  could  not  end 
being  thwarted  at  every  turn,  starved  and  repelled,  when  the 
magical  land  of  love  lay  before  him  in  all  its  alluring  sweet 
ness.  If  Lucy  had  wished  to  strengthen  and  deepen  his  pas 
sion,  she  could  have  chosen  no  surer  course  ;  but  it  had  come 
about  more  from  her  fear  and  the  force  of  circumstances. 

Mr.  Thorndike  was  a  trifle  embarrassed  when  he  had  gain 
ed  his  point.  His  conscience  was  clear  about  Rachel,  for  he 
had  never  uttered  a  tender  word  to  her,  but  he  felt  that  these 
attentions,  and  the  familiar  dropping  in  to  meals,  had  misled 
Mr.  Garth. 

Still,  he  was  not  a  man  to  blunder  over  explanations.  He 
generally  took  a  straightforward  course,  and  after  the  Christ 
mas  dinner,  which  had  been  a  rather  unusual  gala  time,  seeing 
that  Mr.  Garth  generally  dismissed  festivals  of  this  kind  with  a 
virtuous  frown,  he  prepared  himself  for  an  explanation.  Ra 
chel  had  gone  to  make  some  changes  in  her  attire.  Since  the 
advent  of  her  lover,  as  she  esteemed  him,  she  had  begun  to 
take  an  almost  worldly  pleasure  in  dress,  even  going  to  the 
length  of  a  bit  of  modest  colored  ribbon.  Lucy,  Cinderella- 
like,  was  still  in  the  kitchen. 

If  Mr.  Thorndike  could  have  understood  how  strongly 
the  tide  ran  against  Lucy,  he  might  have  hesitated  a  moment, 


C8  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

at  all  events  he  would  not  so  soon  have  made  an  opportunity  to 
say,  as  the  conversation  was  cautiously  led  to  this  subject. 

"  Mr.  Garth,  I  fancy  that  there  is  some  misunderstanding 
here.  It  is  Lucy  that  I  care  for,  and  not  Rachel !  " 

"  Lucy  !  " 

Mr.  Garth  rose  and  approached  his  visitor  to  see  if  he 
could  discover  any  signs  of  mental  aberration.  "  Lucy ! "  he 
repeated  in  an  astonished  and  wandering  manner. 

"Yes,  Lucy!"  Mr.  Thorndike  was  losing  his  patience. 
He  could  see  nothing  so  wonderful  or  reprehensive  in  what  he 
done.  Did  not  men  fall  in  love  with  pretty  girls  often 

ugh  to  make  it  no  marvel  ?  "  And  I  ask  you  for  the  right 
visiting  her  honorably  and  openly,  with  a  view  of  making 
her  my  wife  ? " 

All  that  was  plain  enough.  Mr.  Thorndike  had  risen  in 
his  heat,  and  was  pacing  the  room.  He  would  not  be  an  easy 
man  to  go  against,  although  Mr.  Garth's  first  impulse  was  to 
dismiss  him  upon  the  spot. 

"  Yes,  I  like  your  daughter  Lucy,"  he  went  on  in  a  decisive 
way.  "  I  am  old  enough  to  know  my  own  mind,  and  when  a 
man  resolves  to  settle  clown,  he  generally  takes  a  wife.  My 
means,  I  believe,  are  amply  sufficient  to  support  one." 

Mr.  Garth  gasped  in  anguish.  This  handsome  fortune 
placed  in  the  hands  of  a  vain,  ignorant  child  like  Lucy !  This 
man's  comfort  dependent  upon  an  indolent  and  wayward  girl, 
who,  if  left  to  herself,  would  fill  her  house  with  servants  !  He 
thought  of  his  own  unfortunate  experiment,  and  longed  to  warn 
him. 

"  You  will  regret  it,"  he  said  with  a  shake  of  the  head, "  you 
will  regret  it !  " 

"  Like  the  boy,  I  want  to  see  the  folly  of  it  for  myself;"  and 
Mr.  Thorndike  laughed  carelessly. 

"  Have  you  mentioned  this  subject  to  Lucy ! "  asked  her 
father,  somewhat  sternly. 

He  had  promised  to  shield  Lucy  from  her  father's  anger  as 


Lucia :   Her  Problem.  69 

far  as  was  possible.     To  confess  every  word  and  look  seemed 
absurd  folly. 

"  We  discussed  the  subject  a  few  days  ago,"  he  said  in  his 
firm,  almost  insolent  tone,  "  and  she  was  afraid  that  it  might 
lead  to  some  difficulty.  I  don't  see  why,  Mr.  Garth,  since  you 
do  not  object  to  me  as  a  son-in-law.  Possibly  you  may  never 
meet  with  a  better  offer  for  your  daughter.'' 

He  uttered  this  last  proudly.  Mr.  Garth  knew  it  well.  He 
was  not  anxious  to  let  Mr.  Thorndike  slip  through  his  fingers. 

"  Thorndike,"  he  said  slowly.  "  I  have  your  interest  at 
heart  as  well  as  hers.  Lucy  is  too  young  and  ignorant  to  be 
come  any  man's  wife.  I  could  not  so  go  against  my  conscienclj 
as  to  consent  without  one  warning.  I  am  qualified  to  speak 
from  experience.  Rachel  is  her  superior  in  every  respect." 

"  But  the  fact  is  that  I  do  not  want  Rachel,"  was  the  impa 
tient  interruption.  "  You  take  me  as  Lucy's  husband,  or  not 
at  all," 

The  latter  contingency  was  not  to  be  entertained  for  a  mo 
ment.  Mr.  Garth  felt  that  he  would  give  him  Lucy  rather  than 
lose  him  altogether  ;  but  if  he  could  be  convinced  of  the  folly 
of  this  step. 

"  Have  you  any  reason  to  suppose  that  Lucy  looks  upon 
this  matter  with  favor?"  was  the  sharp  question. 

"  I  think  she  could  be  won.  Girls  are  not  usually  obdu 
rate  where  lovers  are  concerned." 

Very  few  girls  would  object  to  this  great,  strong,  manly  fel 
low,  with  a  fortune  to  back  him.  Mr.  Garth  felt  convinced  of 
that,  and  also  that  his  favorite  daughter's  case  was  hopeless. 

"This  is  so  sudden,  Mr.  Thorndike,  that  I  must  have  time 
to  consider.  I  wish  to  learn  Lucy's  feelings  upon  the  subject." 

"  Will  you  summon  her  now  ?  " 

This  effrontery  was  astounding  !  Mr.  Garth  was  not  used 
to  being  thus  bearded  in  his  own  castle. 

"  I  wish  to  see  her  alone,  first." 

"  Very  well.     When  may  I  have  an  answer  ?     Pardon  me 


70  Lucia:   Her  P/'oblem. 

if  I  am  impatient,  for  I  fancy  that  I  have  put  off  this  important 
step  long  enough.  Some  of  my  new  arrangements  depend 
upon  its  success." 

That  sounded  almost  like  a  threat  to  Mr.  Garth.  For 
Thorndike  to  withdraw  his  money  and  interest  from  the  mill 
now,  would  be  rather  unfortunate ;  but  he  did  not  mean  to  be 
bullied  into  consent  for  all  that. 

"  I  must  consider.  No  one  shall  say,  Thorndike,  that  I 
hurried  you  into  an  unwise  marriage.  Think  of  it  seriously 
yourself." 

"  I  have  thought  and  decided  ! "  rather  moodily. 

Rachel  entered  at  this  juncture.  She  saw  that  her  father 
was  pale  and  discomposed,  and  Mr.  Thorndike  flushed  as  if 
in  anger.  Half  an  hour  ago  they  had  been  the  best  of  friends. 
What  could  have  occurred  ? 

She  drew  her  low  chair  near  the  fire  and  took  up  the  inev 
itable  sewing.  That  exasperated  Mr.  Thorndike  in  his  present 
mood.  Doubtless  she  would  have  to  improve  her  wedding-day 
by  some  such  trifle.  Why,  she  would  never  be  able  to  devote 
a  moment  to  her  husband  ! 

The  three  sat  silent  enough.  Mr.  Thorndike  glanced  out 
of  the  window  to  the  Southern  sky,  where  the  bright  day  was 
clouding  over.  He  felt  undeniably  cross. 

"Mr.  Garth,"  he  began  presently,  rising  as  he  spoke, 
"  when  can  I  have  an  answer !  Excuse  me  if  I  think  the  case 
somewhat  urgent." 

Rachel  glanced  up,  startled  by  the  sharpness  of  the  tone. 
Something  in  the  eyes  bent  fiercely  upon  her  chilled  her  to  the 
heart 

"  In  a  day  or  two,"  Mr.  Garth  responded  meekly.  "  It  is 
best  not  to  be  too  hasty." 

Mr.  Thorndike  replied  by  a  haughty  stare,  and  m  the  door 
way  uttered  a  brief  good-day. 

"  Father,"  Rachel  asked  in  alarm,  "  what  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  He  is  in  love  with  Lucy !  "  groaned  Mr.  Garth. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  71 

Rachel's  face  turned  ashen  pale,  and  her  lips  quivered. 
Her  lover  !  She  could  not  believe  it  at  all. 

"  But  he  asked  you — "  and  then  she  paused. 

"  It  was  a  mistake.  I  thought  he  meant — how  could  he  be 
so  blind  !  " 

"  Lucy !  " 

She  hissed  this  through  her  half  shut  lips  that  made  a  thin 
blue  line. 

"  I  could  not  have  imagined — why,  the  man  is  surely  wild !  " 

"  She  did  it  that  first  night  with  her  flaunting  curls !  And 
they  have  used  me  for  a  cloak — false,  deceitful  wretches  !  " 

Rachel  Garth  was  passionately  angry.  The  blow  had  come 
upon  her  so  suddenly  ;  then,  too,  she  thought  of  the  mortifica 
tion  in  store. 

"  Lucy ! "  called  Mr.  Garth. 

The  culprit  came  slowly.  She  had  a  presentiment  of  im 
pending  evil,  and  feared  to  face  it. 

Mr.  Garth  seized  her  roughly  by  the  arm,  and  for  a  mo 
ment  was  too  much  enraged  to  speak. 

"  Miserable  girl ! "  he  began  at  length,  "  how  dared  you 
carry  on  this  wholesale  system  of  deceit  in  my  house  ?  How 
dared  you  brave  my  authority,  and  deal  so  treacherously  with 
your  sister  ?  Had  you  no  shame  that  you  could  thus  engage 
in  a  clandestine  acquaintance  with  a  man  who — " 

Mr.  Garth  could  get  no  farther.  His  face  was  of  a  dull  pur 
ple,  and  his  lips  quivered  without  sound. 

Lucy  looked  at  him  and  then  at  her  sister.  How  much  had 
Mr.  Thorndike  confessed  ? 

Rachel  was  pale  and  stolid.  She  felt  in  some  indescribable 
way  that  Lucy  wronged  her  at  every  turn.  The  beauty  that 
she  had  always  despised  stung  her  now,  and  she  fairly  hated 
the  sight  of  it. 

"  Yes,  how  dared  you  ?     Answer  me  ! " 

For  a  moment  Lucy  felt  inclined  to  laugh  at  this  bit  of  high 
tragedy. 


72  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  How  could  I  help  his  loving  me  !  "  she  exclaimed  with 
sudden  courage.  "  I'm  sure  I've  not  had  half  your  chance — " 
to  Rachel.  "  It's  just  been  a  moment  now  and  then,  and  if 
he  cared — " 

She  looked  as  if  she  could  brave  them  both.  She  was 
beautiful,  and  her  very  power  seemed  to  hold  them  in  awe. 

"  How  long  has  this  been  going  on  without  my  knowledge  ? " 
Mr.  Garth  asked  in  a  commanding  tone. 

"  He  was  to  tell  you.     I  left  it  all  to  him." 

She  felt  afraid  to  commit  herself  by  any  explanations.  How 
much  or  how  little  Mr.  Thorndike  had  confessed  she  could 
not  know. 

Her  father  meant  to  wrest  the  truth  from  her,  but  she  en 
trenched  herself  behind  a  cold  and  sullen  silence,  and  listened 
to  his  reproaches  and  questions  with  an  unmoved  face,  know 
ing  well  that  this  was  her  only  safety.  Rachel  took  no  part  in 
the  conversation. 

"  Go  to  your  room,"  her  father  thundered  at  length.  ''  Go 
to  your  room,  you  ungrateful  and  rebellious  child,  and  pray  for 
a  better  frame  of  mind.  Stay  there  until  you  have  subdued  the 
evil  spirit  within  you,  and  are  ready  to  pay  due  respect  to  your 
father ! " 

Lucy  left  the  room  with  a  swelling  heart.  It  was  early  in 
the  afternoon,  and  the  sun  shone  pitilessly  bright  over  the 
broad  sheets  of  snow.  She  heard  the  chime  of  merry  bells  ; 
she  thought  of  the  delightful  home  festivals  that  so  many  happy 
hearts  were  keeping,  and  she  shut  out  of  all — she  who  could 
have  so  enjoyed  love,  tenderness,  and  innocent  merriment. 
Why  had  this  mark  been  put  upon  her  ?  Why  must  loneliness 
and  despair  be  her  portion  ? 

It  was  very  cold,  so  she  wrapped  herself  in  a  blanket,  and 
sat  by  the  window  watching  the  travellers  until  she  became 
chilled,  when  she  crawled  into  the  bed,  and  sobbed  as  if  her 
heart  was  breaking.  Was  it  any  wonder  that  she  should  think 
of  Mr.  Thorndike  and  a  few  sentences  that  he  had  uttered  at 


Lucia:   liar  Problem.  73 

their  last  interview  ?  He  had  said  that  he  would  marry  her 
anyhow,  even  if  he  had  to  run  away  with  her.  She  felt  ready 
for  any  desperate  step  now,  if  it  would  but  take  her  to  happy 
liberty.  The  life  with  Mr.  Thorndike  looked  so  bright  and 
alluring  by  contrast. 

By-and-by  twilight  came  on,  but  she  still  lay  there  in  silence. 
It  was  not  mere  stubbornness,  though  her  father  and  Rachel 
thought  her  strongly  endowed  with  that  quality.  There  was 
nothing  in  the  past  for  her  to  repent  of,  she  believed,  for  she 
could  not  feel  sorry  that  Mr.  Thorndike  had  loved  her,  or  she 
him.  As  to  the  secret  meetings  and  little  notes,  she  would  not 
have  descended  to  them  in  preference  to  frankness.  Indeed, 
she  thought  it  would  be  almost  Heaven  to  live  with  some  one 
to  whom  she  could  confess  all  her  faults  and  follies  and  long 
ings  without  reserve. 

She  was  not  summoned  to  supper  ;  and  after  awhile  she  took 
off  her  dress,  groping  around  in  the  dark,  and  shedding  a  few 
vain  tears.  I  am  afraid  Mr.  Garth  would  hardly  have  been 
satisfied  with  her  prayers,  since  she  asked  for  happiness  and  a 
way  to  be  opened  out  of  this  miserable  life.  But  then  it  was 
just  what  she  wanted. 

Hetty  came  up  with  a  little  supper,  but  Lucy  had  no  heart 
nor  appetite  for  a  mouthful,  although  the  kindness  touched  her. 
Soon  afterward  she  fell  asleep,  and  there  her  troubles  ended. 

She  came  down  as  usual  the  next  morning.  Rachel's  face 
was  grimly  cold,  her  father's  severe  in  the  extreme.  He  read 
her  another  lecture  upon  the  enormity  of  her  sin,  but  found  her 
still  unrepentant,  and  predicted  terrible  judgments  for  her.  In 
bygone  days  these  denunciations  used  to  fill  her  with  extremest 
terror ;  now  she  tried  to  shut  her  eyes  to  them. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Mr.  Garth  rather  dreaded  the 
coming  interview  with  his  proposed  son-in-law.  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike  was  a  prompt  man,  and  a  fearless  one.  It  was  true  that 
he  had  comforted  Lucy  in  the  midst  of  her  fear  and  unhappi- 
ness,  with  the  promise  of  an  elopement,  if  it  were  necessary, 
4 


74  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

but  he  did  not  mean  that  it  should  be.  He  wanted  Lucy's  fortune 
as  well  as  herself,  and  he  intended  to  be  received  into  the  house 
of  Garth  as  an  honored  member.  He  fancied  that  the  threat 
of  going  away  would  bring  Mr.  Garth  to  terms,  and  in  this  he 
was  right,  though  the  father  was  not  lacking  in  the  quality  which 
he  so  bitterly  condemned  in  his  daughter — stubbornness. 

He  knew  very  well  that  morning  that  it  would  end  by  his 
acceding  to  Mr.  Thorndike's  proposals  ;  but  he  went  over  with 
the  old  arguments  and  warnings  until  Mr.  Thorndike  began  to 
lose  his  temper.  Then  he  fell  back  upon  the  same  excuse — 
time  for  consideration. 

But  shortly  after  the  commencement  of  the  new  year  Mr. 
Thorndike  carried  his  point,  and  the  matter  was  settled  with  a 
rather  ungracious  consent  He  was  to  be  admitted  to  the 
house  as  the  lover  of  Lucy  Garth,  though  her  father  reserved 
the  right  to  make  the  engagement  as  lengthy  as  in  his  judgment 
it  was  proper  to  do.  He  still  clung  to  a  belief  that  when  Mr. 
Thorndike  came  to  study  Rachel,  he  would  find  her  so  much 
her  sister's  superior  that  it  might  be  made  an  excuse  for  break 
ing  the  unwise  bond. 

Lucy's  heart  gave  a  bound  of  delight  at  this  announcement. 
She  had  not  dared  to  seek  an  interview  with  Mr.  Thorndike 
through  this  trying  time,  so  when  he  came  to  tea  by  special 
invitation,  though  she  did  not  know  it,  and  Rachel  had  not 
considered  it  necessary  to  take  out  the  china,  hope  rose  at 
once  in  her  mercurial  temperament. 

Mr.  Thorndike's  obtuseness  stood  him  in  good  stead.  A 
more  sensitive  man  would  have  found  the  interview  very  trying. 
He  had  a  great  deal  of  rough  good  nature  about  him  when  he 
was  pleased  or  elated  ;  and  in  spite  of  Mr.  Garth's  lofty  severi 
ty  and  Rachel's  obstinate  silence,  he  made  himself  at  home. 
Lucy  was  extremely  shy,  and  yet  wonderfully  enchanting.  Hs 
contrasted  her  grace  and  airyness  with  her  sister's  prim,  cold 
manner,  and  felt  not  in  the  least  disposed  to  change  his  alle 
giance. 


Lucia  :   Her  Problem.  75 

Mr.  Garth  had  many  strictures  and  much  advice  to  give 
with  his  concession.  Lucy  was  young,  totally  ignorant,  and 
quite  indifferent  to  the  acquirements  of  a  good  housekeeper. 
She  had  been  an  idle  and  wayward  girl,  and  her  father  did  not 
consider  it  his  duty  to  conceal  any  of  her  faults.  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike  should  never  feel  that  he  had  been  deceived  in  the  slight 
est  particular.  And  so  on  and  on  until  Lucy's  face  was  scar 
let,  and  her  blood  at  the  white  heat  of  indignation. 

She  went  to  the  hall  door  with  him — he  was  her  lover,  and 
she  had  not  been  vouchsafed  the  opportunity  of  exchanging  a 
single  private  word  with  him  until  now. 

He  put  his  strong  arms  about  her  neck  and  kissed  the 
throbbing  lips.  She  seemed  so  small,  so  helpless,  and  most 
unjustly  used. 

"  Oh,"  she  whispered,  clinging  to  him  as  her  only  friend — 
"  you  don't  believe  all  that  miserable  story.  I  would  work, 
I  would  do  any  thing  for  the  one  who  loved  me.  I  will  try  to 
make  you  happy  !  You  are  so  good,  so  kind,  and  so  much  to 
me.  You  won't  let  anybody  come  between  us  ?  " 

Her  sweet  face  was  full  of  tears.  This,  and  the  soft,  pathet 
ic  voice,  touched  his  rough  heart. 

"  My  darling,  no.  Don't  let  them  worry  you.  It  will  all 
come  out  straight.  I've  been  to  look  at  the  Cunningham  house, 
and  if  it  suits  you,  we'll  go  there  in  the  spring." 

"  Oh,  you  are  so  good  !  " 

The  promised  change  seemed  almost  like  Heaven  to  her 
narrow  and  material  vision. 

A  few  more  tender  words  and  the  lovers  parted.  Lucy 
came  back  and  sat  down  by  the  fireside,  while  her  father  held 
forth  in  one  of  his  wearisome  lectures.  She  gave  small  heed, 
for  in  the  blaze  she  seemed  to  see  a  soft-haired  woman  queen 
ing  it  at  the  Cunningham  Place. 


70  Lucia:  Her  Problem . 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    GOLDEN    SIDE. 

LUCY  GARTH'S  engagement  did  not  long  remain  un 
known  to  the  gossips  of  Dedham.  If  it  had  depended 
upon  Rachel  or  Mr.  Garth,  they  could  have  kept  the  secret  up 
to  the  hour  of  the  ceremony.  Mr.  Thorndike  had  an  idea 
that  publicity  would  prove  his  best  ally.  Why  should  he  be 
ashamed  of  it  ?  he  argued.  Lucy  was  a  handsome  girl,  and  would 
make  an  elegant  woman  when  she  came  to  be  dressed  in  style. 
The  Garths  were  a  good  old  family,  and  could  trace  a  pure  de 
scent  back  to  the  revolutionary  times  ;  and  best  of  all,  there  was 
a  fortune  in  prospect. 

So  Warren  Thorndike  marched  proudly  into  church  on 
Sunday  morning  and  took  a  seat  in  the  Garth  pew,  though 
prosy  Mr.  Howe  bored  him  intolerably.  After  they  were 
married,  he  thought  he  and  Lucy  would  go  to  the  Shiloah  so 
ciety,  for  they  had  a  brilliant  young  minister,  whose  courage 
was  not  even  intimidated  by  driving  a  fast  horse,  and  whose 
name  was  down  upon  some  of  the  most  attractive  lecture 
courses.  To  be  sure,  the  Shiloah  people  paid  three  thousand 
dollars  a  year  for  this  luxury,  and  gave  him  a  six  weeks'  vaca 
tion,  which  was  not  high,  all  things  being  considered. 

The  elderly  gossips  exchanged  sundry  nods  and  winks.  It 
was  all  settled  then.  Rachel  Garth  would  not  need  much  tin  ? 
to  prepare  an  outfit,  for  every  one  knew  of  the  piles  of  bed  and 
table  linen  and  store  of  blankets.  Mr.  Thorndike  would  go 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  77 

to  house-keeping,  of  course,  and  a  vacancy  would  occur  in  the 
Garth  household,  to  be  rilled  by  somebody.  Lucy  was  passed 
over  as  a  very  unimportant  member. 

But  when  Warren  Thorndike  drew  Lucy  Garth's  hand 
through  his  arm  and  walked  home  with  her,  the  busy  tongues 
were  half  paralyzed.  And  to  see  this  repeated  again  before 
the  day  was  over  gave  unmistakable  force  and  truth  to  the 
matter. 

Miss  Kip  made  her  call  early  on  Monday  afternoon,  for 
the  morning  was  devoted  to  washing. 

"  I  never  was  so  beat  in  my  life,"  she  began.  "  You 
don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  he's  to  marry  that  child  ! — and 
they  walking  out  of  church  like  husband  and  wife  already !  " 

Rachel  Garth  turned  her  dull,  swarthy  hue.  The  mortifi 
cation  had  been  very  severe,  and  now  to  have  to  explain  the 
truth,  when  she  had  been  congratulating  herself,  was  humilia 
ting.  But  she  could  not  evade  and  patch  up  such  an  affair 
gracefully. 

"  Yes.  Father  has  consented  against  his  better  judg 
ment.  Lucy  is  a  mere  child ;  and  though  I  have  done  my 
best,  I  am  sure,  I  have  not  been  able  to  make  any  thing  out 
of  her." 

"  I  dare  say.  If  ever  any  one  was  marked  in  soul  and  body,  it 
is  that  girl  !  She  is  her  mother's  own  child  1  " 

Miss  Kip  spoke  with  some  asperity.  Rachel  had  been  so 
used  to  hearing  her  step-mother  condemned,  and  she  thought 
justly,  that  there  was  no  feeling  of  honor  about  it. 

"  But  when  did  it  happen  ? ''  asked  the  eager  questioner. 

"  He  spoke  on  Christmas  day.  I  must  say  that  it  would 
have  looked  more  manly  and  honorable  not  to  have  used  me 
as  a  cloak." 

"  And  you'  didn't  suspect  all  that  time  ? " 

"  How  should  I  ?  We  have  never  considered  Lucy  as  at 
all  grown  or  mature.  But  she  is  very  forward." 

This  was  uttered  in  a  sharp,  spiteful  manner. 


78  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

"The  man  must  be  crazy,  my  dear  Rachel.  He  will  live 
to  rue  this  day's  work  !  " 

Rachel  hoped  in  her  heart  that  he  would.  It  was  something 
deeper  than  the  passing  disappointment  with  her.  She  was 
not  discriminating  or  analytical,  but  she  had  a  clear  brain  and 
a  good  deal  of  common  sense.  She  seemed  to  understand 
Mr.  Thorndike  from  the  very  first,  and  know  better  than  him 
self  what  manner  of  wife  he  needed.  Just  now  he  was  very 
much  infatuated  by  Lucy's  pretty  face,  but  she  could  remem 
ber  a  time  when  her  step-mother  had  grown  thin  and  wan  and 
plain.  When  that  day  came,  Lucy's  reign  would  be  at  an  end 
over  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Thorndike. 

That  day  never  came,  but  in  its  stead  something  that 
Rachel  little  dreamed  of  now. 

"  It  is  a  foolish  piece  of  work ;  but  he  is  obstinate,  and  she 
of  course  ready  to  marry  the  first  man  who  asks  her." 

Rachel  spoke  with  severity,  as  if  she  had  refused  scores  of 
lovers. 

"  How  can  men  be  so  foolish,  my  dear  Rachel  !  "  and  Miss 
Kip  sighed  over  the  time  when  she,  too,  had  been  set  aside 
for  a  pretty  face. 

"  And  with  twenty  years  difference  in  their  ages  ! "  flung 
out  Rachel.  u  However,  I've  washed  my  hands  of  the  mat 
ter.  I  told  Lucy  so.  I've  tried  my  best  to  do  my  duty  by 
her,  and  now  she  must  work  out  her  own  salvation." 

"I  expected  better  things  of  Warren  Thorndike!  It's 
enough  to  make  his  poor  old  mother  rise  in  her  grave.  Ah, 
she  was  such  a  house-keeper,  my  dear  !  I've  said  many  a  time 
that  you  were  enough  like  her  to  be  her  own  child.  It  doesn't 
seem  to  me  as  if  it  could  be  true.  When  are  they  to  be  mar 
ried  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,"  Rachel  said  simply. 

"  It's  my  opinion  that  he  will  come  to  his  senses  some  time, 
and  so  I  should  be  in  favor  of  a  long  engagement.  It  would 
be  dreadful  for  them  both  to  be  dissatisfied  afterward,  and  it 


Lucia :  Her  Problem.  79 

doesn't  seem  to  me  that  Lucy  can  appreciate  a  man  like  Mr. 
Thorndike. 

"  That  is  just  it,"  returned  Rachel  warmly.  "  All  she  will 
care  for  will  be  dress  and  company,  but  he's  been  warned. 
It's  his  own  fault." 

And  so  they  groaned  and  predicted  a  dismal  future  for  the 
girl  who  was  combing  out  her  shining  hair  and  singing  a  bit 
of  a  forbidden  love  song  in  the  room  above.  Perhaps  both 
women  secretly  hoped  that  Mr.  Thorndike's  safety  would  be 
brought  about  by  some  interposition  of  fate  powerful  enough 
to  separate  him  from  Lucy  Garth. 

I  cannot  say  that  Rachel  had  been  disappointed  in  her 
love,  for  the  feeling  had  gone  no  deeper  than  a  strong  satis 
faction  with  her ;  then  she  was  not  the  kind  of  a  woman  to 
love  entirely.  Yet  her  practical  good  sense  led  her  to  see  that 
Lucy  and  Warren  Thorndike  were  not  suited  to  each  other. 
Could  he  understand  Lucy's  vague  and  dreamy  moods,  her  ro 
mantic  tendencies,  her  strange  sympathy  for  things  and  sub 
jects  that  would  interest  no  other  person  ?  And  when  Lucy 
neglected  his  house,  left  the  meals  to  servants,  fell  into  untidy 
habits,  as  she  surely  would  when  this  constant  supervision 
was  removed,  then  would  come  his  time  of  trial ;  and  Rachel 
absolutely  pitied  this  man  of  her  vision,  like  a  mother  yearn 
ing  over  a  son. 

The  courtship  was  not  a  very  satisfactory  proceeding. 
Lucy  proposed  to  kindle  a  fire  in  the  best  room,  but  this 
Rachel  forbade  except  on  Sundays.  So  the  poor  child  had 
recourse  to  stolen  walks  again,  and  brief,  whisnered  sentences, 
when  no  sharp  ears  were  listening.  Mr.  Garth  discussed 
business  with  Mr.  Thorndike  until  Lucy  felt  as  if  she  could  fly 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

He  came  one  day  in  a  small  wagon  that  he  used  for  all  or 
dinary  purposes,  and  announced  that  he  wished  to  take  Lucy 
to  visit  the  Cunningham  place,  as  he  was  negotiating  for  it. 

Lucy  dropped  her  sewing  in  radiant  surprise. 


80  Lucia  :   Her  Problem. 

"  Of  course  she  would  go !  " 

Rachel  gave  a  sharp  glance  at  the  wagon  and  then  at  her 
sister.  It  was  evident  there  was  no  room  for  a  third,  and  yet 
she  was  not  quite  settled  upon  the  point  of  propriety.  And 
while  she  was  debating,  Lucy  had  vanished. 

"  You  don't  mean  to  buy  the  place  for — "  and  Rachel  paused, 
not  able  to  put  the  enormity  into  words. 

"  For  myself  and  Lucy  ?     Yes,  if  she  likes  it !  " 

Rachel  gave  a  gasp  of  surprise.  He  took  a  rather  mali 
cious  enjoyment  in  it. 

"  For  you  two  !  It  is  an  extravagant  beginning.  What 
does  Lucy  know  about  the  management  of  such  a  place  ?  " 

"  She  can  learn." 

Rachel  sniffed  in  disdainful  silence.  Then  Lucy  returned 
flushed  and  happy,  in  spite  of  the  dull,  Bay  state  shawl  and 
faded  brown  veil. 

He  wrapped  her  snugly  in  the  blanket,  and  drew  the  wolf- 
robe  over  her  lap,  asking  her  if  she  were  comfortable.  It  was 
so  delightful  to  have  him  glance  at  her  with  that  sweet  anxiety, 
and  for  the  first  time  she  felt  as  if  her  lover  was  really  her 
own. 

"It's  good  to  have  you  here  alone,"  he  exclaimed,  falling 
into  her  train  of  thought,  at  which  both  laughed,  and  she  shyly 
confessed  her  satisfaction. 

"  I  saw  Cunningham  yesterday.  The  family  have  all  gone  to 
town,  and  he's  anxious  to  get  the  place  off  his  hands.  It's  proved 
rather  a  heavy  speculation  for  him.  He  wants  to  sell  part  of 
the  furniture." 

"  Do  you  really  think  of  buying  it  for — "  and  Lucy  blushed 
with  his  ardent  eyes  upon  her. 

"  For  the  man  in  the  moon  !  "  and  Thorndike  laughed. 

"  I  don't  deserve  so  much  good  fortune,"  Lucy  said  with  a 
sudden  touch  of  humility. 

"  Oh,  you  don't !     Well,  shall  we  turn  back  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  and  her  face  was  more  radiant  than  before. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  8.1 

"  I  shall  be  quite  lost  in  such  a  grand  place,"  she  went  on 
slowly,  with  a  lingering  tenderness  in  her  voice  that  was  sweet 
to  hear. 

"  I  mean  you  to  be  as  great  a  lady  as  the  best  of  them,  my 
darling,"  he  said  with  a  sort  of  rough  pride. 

She,  who  had  never  been  cared  for  or  held  in  any  esteem 
since  the  death  of  her  poor,  fond  mother,  thought  this  promise 
a  draught  of  golden  wine  indeed,  and  seemed  touched  in  every 
pulse  r*y  the  subtle  flavor.  So  they  talked,  and  laughed,  and 
loved,  or  thought  they  did,  which  is  the  same  while  it  lasts  the 
world  over.  Then  they  stopped  at  the  wide  gates. 

There  was  a  spacious  lawn  with  a  drive  around,  while  the 
house  stood  on  a  ridge  of  rising  ground.  In  summer  it  was 
beautiful,  with  the  embowering  shrubbery ;  and  even  now  the 
clusters  of  evergreens  kept  it  from  looking  dreary.  An  odd 
place  as  to  architecture,  with  a  great  variety  of  windows,  angles, 
verandas,  and  set  off  with  a  tower  at  one  corner,  whose  eleva 
tion  was  high  above  the  gables  of  the  roof. 

The  man  left  in  charge  answered  the  summons,  and 
ushered  them  into  the  spacious  hall,  which  was  covered  with 
thick,  soft  carpet.  A  handsome  drawing-room  and  library  on 
one  side,  that  could  be  shut  off  by  ground-glass  doors,  on  the 
other  a  sitting-room,  furnished  much  more  elegantly  than  the 
parlors  Lucy  was  in  the  habit  of  seeing ;  a  large  dining-room, 
with  its  oaken  and  walnut  floor,  and  appointments  to  corre 
spond,  and  back  of  all  two  kitchens. 

The  chambers  up  above  were  quite  in  keeping.  Lucy 
could  only  exclaim  in  a  delighted  and  astonished  manner. 
Her  ignorance  and  pleasure  were  alike  charming,  and  her 
piquant  gratitude  the  most  fascinating  of  all.  And  then  she 
appeared  so  perfectly  at  home  amid  this  luxury  in  spite  of  her 
shabby  dress. 

"  Then  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  like  does  not  seem  any  word  for  it !  I  am  afraid  that 
I  am  dreaming.  Why  it  would  be  living  in  Paradise  !  " 

A* 


82  Lucia:  Htr  Problem. 

"But  suppose  /didn't  like  it?  w  he  asked  with  quick  jeal 
ousy,  for  the  narrow  soul  could  hardly  bear  to  share  her  regard 
with  any  thing  beyond  his  own  person. 

He  had  thrown  himself  into  a  cushioned  arm-chair,  and 
looked  very  handsome  and  lordly  she  thought,  and  somehow 
she  felt  extremely  proud  of  him  and  tender  towards  him.  She 
knelt  beside  him,  laying  her  soft  cheek  on  his  knee. 

"  But  you  do  like  it,"  she  said  in  her  winsome  voice ;  "and 
if  you  did  not,  I  should  still  have  you.  It' seems  to  me  that 
any  place  would  be  delightful  if  you  were  only  there  and  cared 
for  me  as  you  do  now." 

He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  times  without  num 
ber.  Ah,  if  they  could  have  lived  there  unknowing  and  un 
known  !  If  they  could  have  believed  always  that  this  passion 
they  held  for  one  another  was  love  in  its  height  and  fulness  ! 

They  rambled  around  gayly,  she  appealing  to  him  now  and 
then  in  an  ignorance  so  sweet  that  it  was  an  exquisite  pleasure 
to  be  her  instructor.  And  yet  he  felt  in  some  vague  way  that 
she  made  daring  flights  above  him,  and  had  glimpses  of  a 
higher  world,  and  that  there  was  something  in  her  aspiring  and 
passionate  nature  that  he  could  not  comprehend.  But  ho 
could  dress  her  handsomely  and  make  her  mistress  of  this  sty 
lish  mansion. 

He  could  not  guess  all  that  her  fatal  beauty  was  to  cost 
him  ;  and  if  she  had  seen,  she  would  have  shrunk  back  in  dis 
may  and  borne  the  old.  hard  life  awhile  longer. 

At  last  they  were  ready  to  go.  The  visit  had  been  a  rare 
holiday  to  her,  and  she  could  hardly  realize  that  at  no  distant 
day  its  beauty  and  luxury  might  be  hers.  She  clung  more 
closely  to  her  lover,  feeling  that  all  this  happiness  must  come 
through  him  alone.  He  was  very  tender  of  her,  and  the  devo 
tion  touched  her  to  the  very  soul. 

Mr.  Thorndike  and  Mr.  Cunningham  haggled  for  awhile 
about  their  bargain,  while  Mr.  Garth  used  his  best  efforts  to 
dissuade  his  son-in-law  from  ro  wild  a  step.  Buying  a  house 


Lucia :   Her  Problem.  83 

to  sell  again  at  an  advance  of  eight  or  ten  thousand  dollars 
was  one  thing,  but  to  live  under  all  this  expense  was  prepos 
terous  ! 

Each  day  Lucy's  home  grew  more  intolerable  to  her.  She 
had  no  anxiety  whatever  to  delay  the  wedding-day,  indeed 
when  she  looked  forward  sometimes  to  the  prospect  of  a  long 
engagement,  her  heart  sank  within  her. 

It  was  not  to  be,  however.  Mr.  Thorndike  bought  the 
house,  and  his  energetic  manner  soon  brought  matters  around 
to  his  views.  They  would  be  married  in -May. 

Rachel  Garth  declared  the  thing  impossible.  Lucy  should 
have  a  year's  instruction  at  least  in  house-keeping ;  her  wed 
ding  outfit  was  to  be  made,  her  household  linen  prepared ;  and 
so  it  was  folly  to  talk  of  May. 

"  Let  her  learn  house-keeping  by  experience,"  laughed  Mr. 
Thorndike.  "  As  for  a  wedding  outfit  and  all  that,  it  can  be 
bought  in  New  York  without  half  the  bother.  I  have  some 
cousins  there  who  would  be  delighted  to  take  it  in  hand  " 

Rachel  retired  from  the  field  in  high  disdain.  Not  a  word 
of  advice  and  counsel  would  she  give  Lucy — not  that  the  girl 
asked  or  desired  any.  She  rather  liked  the  new  system  that 
her  sister  inaugurated,  and  appeared  quite  capable  of  looking 
after  herself. 

So  the  gossips  at  Dedham  had  enough  to  occupy  their 
minds  and  tongues.  The  wildest  stories  were  credited  ;  and 
Lucy  walked  about  with  a  haughty  air  as  if  she  were  already 
queen. 

She  went  to  New  York  for  her  bridal  attire.  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike's  cousin,  a  pretty  and  fashionable  married  woman  of 
thirty,  came  for  her  and  marvelled  not  a  little  at  the  Garths' 
frugal  virtues.  Lucy  received  a  very  moderate  portion  from 
her  father,  though  it  appeared  large  to  her  inexperienced  eyes  ; 
but  Mr.  Thorndike  charged  Mrs.  Wilder  to  do  all  that  was 
befitting,  regardless  of  expense. 

It  was  a  new  and  peculiar  experience  for  Lucy.     She  took 


84  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

it  in  a  most  superb  manner.  She  had  been  born  \vith  a  rare 
eye  for  beauty  of  the  most  perfect  type,  and  one  would  hardly 
have  supposed  from  her  selections  that  it  was  her  first  experi 
ence  in  the  world  of  fashion. 

Of  course  Mr.  Garth  paid  the  bills.  If  he  could  have 
dressed  his  child  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  and  shut  her  in  a  con 
vent,  I  am  not  sure  but  that  it  would  have  been  a  great  gratifi 
cation  to  him.  But  all  of  Dedham  thought  Lucy  a  lucky  girl, 
and  congratulated  him,  so  he  bore  it  in  grim  silence.  Rachel 
was  comforted  by  her  dear  friends,  though  I  cannot  say  that 
she  envied  Lucy  any  of  her  splendor  ;  but  she  groaned  in  secret 
over  the  extravagance. 

So  Lucy  Garth  was  married  one  bright  May  morning  in  the 
dull  parlor  where  she  had  first  flashed  the  syren  light  of  her 
beauty  upon  Mr.  Thorndike.  As  she  said  her  vows  over,  she 
meant  to  keep  them  every  one — "Love,  Honor,  and  Obey." 
It  looked  so  easy.  She  was  leaving  all  the  misery  and  cold 
ness  behind  and  going  to  light,  warmth,  and  tenderness. 

As  for  Warren  Thorndike,  he  was  still  deeply  infatuated. 
The  opposition  that  he  had  met  with  had  been  just  keen 
enough  to  lure  him  on,  the  obstacles  of  a  kind  that  he  liked  to 
demolish.  He  had  carried  every  point,  and  they  were  still 
good  friends ;  indeed,  Mr.  Garth  was  secretly  proud  of  him. 

And  yet  it  was  a  cold,  sad  bridal.  No  tender  and  loving 
friends  to  wish  the  young  wife  joy  and  happiness  for  the  years 
to  come,  no  sweet  and  gracious  prayers,  no  warm  smiles  nor 
fond  tears. 

"  Suppose  there  should  always  be  a  shadow  on  my  life  ? " 
Lucy  Thorndike  thought,  with  a  frightened  gasp,  and  her  soft 
cheek  paled  involuntarily. 

Mr.  Howe  was  giving  Lucy  some  prosy  but  kindly  meant 
advice  in  the  parlor,  when  Warren  Thorndike  found  himself 
quite  alone  with  Rachel  in  the  ordinary  living  room.  Some 
thing  of  the  man's  disposition  to  triumph  flashed  over  him,  and 
turning  his  keen  eyes  full  upon  her,  he  said — 


Lucix :   Her  Problem.  85 

"You  have  not  congratulated  me  yet?" 

Rachel  knew  that  he  was  studying  her  from  head  to  foot, 
and  comparing  her  with  his  bride.  She  was  neither  young  nor 
pretty,  and  possessed  no  winsome,  deceitful  graces,  but  she 
was,  or  honestly  believed  herself,  an  upright,  truthful,  conscien 
tious  woman,  superior  to  her  sister  in  all  useful  and  necessary 
qualities. 

"  Why  should  I  congratulate  ? "  she  asked,  coldly. 

"  Because  it's  the  fashion,"  and  he  laughed  a  little.  "  Be 
cause  I  am  going  to  be  happy,  also.  You  surely  do  not  grudge 
me  your  sister  ?  " 

She  was  not  complimented  by  this.  Her  leaden  eyes  were 
still  steady  and  cold,  and  her  voice  passive  as  she  answered — 

"  No,  I  do  not  grudge  you  Lucy." 

"  Nor  our  happiness  ?  " 

She  made  a  sort  of  bitter,  disdainful  gesture. 

"  I  do  not  think  you  are  going  to  be  happy,  Mr.  Thorndike, 
if  you  will  have  the  truth." 

"  Not  happy  ?     Why  ? "  he  asked,  in  amaze. 

"  I  need  not  tell  you." 

"  Yes,  you  must.  It  is  unfair  to  make  such  a  prediction 
without  some  theory  to  base  it  upon.  Come,  why  not? " 

"  I  never  soften  the  truth,  Mr.  Thorndike.  You  have 
chosen  a  woman  with  a  pretty  face,  but  who  is  frivolous,  indo 
lent,  ill-tempered  when  controlled  or  annoyed,  who  thinks  of 
nothing  but  pleasure  and  personal  adornment,  and  to  whom 
the  slightest  duties  were  ever  irksome.  I  am  sorry  for  this. 
You  deserve  a  better  wife — and  Heaven  knows  that  I  have 
labored  to  make  my  sister  a  more  worthy  woman.  She  has 
been  indifferent  to  all  the  pains  taken  for  her  welfare.  An 
undutiful  and  disrespectful  daughter  will  not  make  a  good  wife. 
But  you  have  chosen — and  you  must  bear  it." 

"Yes — I  will ;  "  he  returned  angrily,  with  a  flash  of  fire  in 
his  eyes.  Then  he  looked  at  her  with  an  amused  pity.  She 
was  narrow  and  jealous  ;  and  yet  he  rather  liked  her  for  having 


86  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

loved  him,  as  he  thought ;  but  Rachel  Garth  would  have  said 
the  same  about  her  sister  under  any  circumstances.  Her  love 
for  him  had  very  little  to  do  with  it. 

"  We  shall  see ; "  she  went  on  in  the  same  cold,  calm 
exasperating  tone.     "  I  am  sure  I  wish  her  no  ill.     I  hope 
God  will  change  her  vain  and  trifling  mind,  and  give  her  grace 
to  do  her  duty." 

"  Warren !  "  called  the,  loveliest  and  sweetest  voice  in  the 
world ;  "  the  carriage  has  come — and  here  are  your  gloves.  I 
believe  wives  always  have  to  be  gathering  up  the  little  traps 
their  husbands  leave  around — so  you  see  I  have  begun  ; "  with 
an  arch,  bright  smile  at  Mrs.  Howe. 

She  looked  exquisitely  sweet  and  dainty  in  her  soft,  silvery 
wedding  dress,  "  that  never  cost  less  than  five  dollars  a  yard," 
Miss  Kip  declared.  Her  straw  hat  of  a  shade  darker,  had  a 
band  of  velvet  and  a  cluster  of  bronzed  ivy  leaves,  while  just 
underneath  the  brim  was  a  cord  of  azure  blue,  that  gave  a  seduc 
tive  softness  to  the  young  face. 

Warren  Thorndike  thought  the  vision  perfection.,  as  he  took 
his  mislaid  gloves.  Then  he  handed  her  into  the  carriage  as 
if  she  had  been  the  greatest  lady  in  the  land — as  she  was,  to  him. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  87 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SUMMER. 

IT  was  the  middle  of  June  when  Lucy  Thorndike  stepped 
out  of  the  carriage  in  front  of  her  own  elegant  mansion, 
where  roses,  honeysuckles,  and  blossoms  of  all  kinds  in  the  wild 
est  profusion  were  showering  their  beauty  and  fragrance  on 
every  hand. 

The  month  had  been  a  gala  time  to  her.  She  looked  back 
with  a  touch  of  contemptuous  pity  at  the  Lucy  Garth  who  had 
gone  shabbily  dressed  through  her  coarse,  common  paths  of 
life.  How  much  the  ignorant  child  had  learned  in  those  brief 
weeks  !  How  much  enjoyment  had  been  crowded  into  every 
day  !  Some  of  the  rare  wonders  of  the  world  had  been  unfold 
ed  to  her  gaze,  the  beautiful  and  the  sublime. 

When  Tennyson  said,  in  his  grave,  inspiring  fashion,  which 
must  touch  many  a  human  soul — 

"  For  I,  myself,  with  these  have  grown, 
To  something  greater  than  before," 

he  uttered  the  profound  experience  of  others  as  well.  There 
had  not  been  a  moment,  either  sleeping  or  waking,  but  what 
Lucy  Thorndike's  soul  had  grown.  You  could  see  it  in  her 
face,  and  you  could  also  see  what  would  have  pained  a  clear- 
eyed,  thoughtful  person,  that  the  lofty  and  spiritual  part  of  life 
would  be  on  her  side,  the  material  upon  her  husband's. 

He  had  grown  stouter  and  handsomer,  I  was  about  to  say, 
but  it  was  mere  physical  ruddiness  and  health,  with  the  added 


88  Lucia:   Her  P/o^lem. 

ease  and  enjoyment.  He  had  a  full,  square  lower  jaw,  which 
gave  him  an  expression  of  extreme  satisfaction,  but  told  also 
that  self  predominated.  He  had  given  Lucy  much  pleasure 
this  month,  but  he  had  not  gone  one  step  out  of  his  way  for 
any  of  it.  That  was  never  in  the  man,  and  human  nature,  I 
believe,  has  but  few  century  blossoms. 

There  was,  with  all  the  loveliness  in  her  face,  and  it  seemed 
to  have  improved  tenfold,  a  look  of  awe  and  wonder,  as  if  she 
was  groping  about  after  something  that  was  not  quite  clear  to 
her  own  mind.  A  kind  of  newness,  subtle  and  intangible,  per 
vading  the  atmosphere  she  breathed. 

Now  and  then  some  human  soul  at  this  period  of  inception 
comes  in  contact  with  the  teacher  or  the  influence  that  moulds 
it  aright,  and  goes  on  to  a  maturity  as  perfect  as  any  this  side 
of  heaven.  But  for  the  one  so  circumstanced,  hundreds  blind 
ly  grope  along,  betrayed  by  false  guides,  stabbed  to  the  heart 
by  treacherous  friends,  or  left  by  the  'wayside  bruised  and 
maimed,  and  sore  beset  by  foes.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  so 
many  are  lost,  that  so  many  souls  go  down  to  perdition  when 
no  ear  listened  to  their  cry  save  the  God  of  whom  they  know 
so  little? 

Lucy  Thorndike  was  full  of  questioning  surprise.  The 
world  was  so  much  wider  and  greater  than  she  had  imagined, 
and  human  souls  were  capable  of  so  much  more  than  she  could 
have  dreamed  in  her  wildest  moments.  She  looked  back  at 
the  old  narrow  life  in  sickening  disgust,  and  daily  gave  thanks 
that  she  had  escaped  it. 

Of  course  her  husband  should  have  been  her  guide  and  in 
structor.  You  know  how  thoughtlessly  she  married  him,  and 
what  she  was  herself  the  night  she  came  down  in  her  flood  of 
golden  hair  and  took  him  captive.  I  don't  know  who  was  an 
swerable  for  her  ignorance — it  is  one  of  those  far-reaching, 
subtle  questions  that  can  never  be  decided  on  this  side  of 
eternity.  Souls  and  bodies  are  continually  going  astray,  you 
know,  and  we  ask,  was  it  this  man's  fault  or  his  parents  ? 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  89 

She  took  her  husband  for  guide  and  instructor,  for  priest 
and  king.  There  is  a  little  of  the  old  leaven  of  heathendom 
in  most  womens'  hearts,  and  they  are  prone  to  make  unto  them 
selves  gods.  She  could  hardly  imagine  any  one  more  generous 
or  tender ;  but  he  would  have  been  a  brute  if  he  had  failed  in 
this"  during  the  first  month — the  honeymoon. 

And  yet  some  things  had  pained  her.  He  had  laughed 
over  two  or  three  pretty  sharp  business  transactions,  and  when 
she  had  flared  up  with  her  girlish  ideas  of  honesty,  he  had 
shown  a  touch  of  displeasure.  He  had  not  scrupled  at  an  in 
vention  of  the  moment  to  serve  some  purpose,  which  seemed 
to  her  an  absolute  falsehood.  So  she  had  found  a  flaw  in  her 
henx'  Perhaps  the  same  things  were  in  the  old  life — indeed, 
when  she  came  to  think  of  it,  had  she  been  quite  fair  and 
open  ? 

Perhaps  the  humiliation  did  her  good.  It  enabled  her  to 
take  a  more  just  view  and  to  be  merciful.  And  yet,  the  guide, 
the  instructor  was  gone.  The  sweet  blossoms  were  already 
shadowed. 

She  did  what  most  women  do,  I  suppose,  adapted  her 
self  to  the  circumstances.  There  was  so  much  left,  you 
know.  Brightness,  beauty,  wealth  and  love.  She  resolved 
to  make  her  own  soul  pure  and  true,  and  keep  it  so,  to 
make  her  home  lovely  and  attractive,  and  her  husband's  life 
happy. 

She  paused  a  moment  on  the  threshold  and  glanced 
around. 

"  How  very  beautiful  it  all  is  !  "  she  exclaimed  with  childish 
eagerness  and  enthusiasm.  "  I  wonder  if  the  Cunninghams 
were  not  sorry  to  leave  it  ? " 

Mr.  Thorndike  laughed.  It  was  a  kind  of  answer  that  he 
had  for  a  great  many  things,  and  expressed  his  mood  very 
thoroughly. 

She  did  not  quite  like  the  habit.  In  her  pretty,  coaxing 
wiy,  she  had  dissuaded  him  from  his  usual  expletive  of  "by 


90  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

Jove,"  and  now  she  wished  that  the  laugh  was  less  coarse,  or 
that  he  would  not  use  it  so  frequently. 

"  But  he  is  too  good  to  be  found  fault  with  continually," 
she  said  to  herself,  with  her  own  bright  smile. 

"  Does  it  look  just  as  it  did  last  summer  ?  "  he  asked  pres 
ently. 

"  I  don't  remember — "  a  little  puzzled  at  the  question. 
"  I  used  to  steal  down  here  once  in  a  while  to  comfort  myself 
in  the  garden.  I  thought  it  very  lovely  then." 

"  They've  been  working  upon  it  the  whole  month,  outside 
and  in.  It  ought  to  be  improved.  I  dare  say  the  bills  will  be 
large  enough  !  " 

She  wondered  if  he  grudged  any  of  the  money !  He  had 
been  very  lavish  on  their  journey,  at  least  in  some  respects. 
No  dainties  were  too  costly  for  his  taste  or  appetite,  and  he  had 
bought  her  a  set  of  diamonds,  with  many  other  luxurious  ar 
ticles.  But  one  day  he  had  refused  to  give  even  a  few  pennies 
to  a  woman  with  a  sick  baby. 

"  They're  a  set  of  impostors,"  he  had  said  roughly.  "  Come 
away." 

The  poor  pitiful  face  haunted  her  for  hours  afterward. 

"  Father  thought  it  was  extravagant,  you  know,"  referring 
to  the  house.  "  I  wonder  how  they  are — father  and  Rachel  ? 
It  seems  as  if  I  was  some  one  else." 

"  But  you  like  it  ?  "  ignoring  the  last  part  of  her  remark. 

"  Oh,  so  much  !  I  wonder  sometimes  how  all  these  delight 
ful  things  came  to  happen  to  me.  If  you  had  not  loved  me, 
first  of  all— " 

That  was  what  he  wanted — praise  and  admiration.  When 
Rachel  Garth  had  enumerated  her  sister's  vanity  among  her 
other  faults  to  this  man,  she  did  not  realize  that  his  was  enor 
mous  in  comparison. 

Lucy  had  begun  by  being  very  demonstrative,  but  her  fine 
tact  and  fast-growing  delicacy  soon  intervened.  Even  this 
brief  contact  with  the  world  imparted  an  air  of  high  breeding. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  91 

The  changes  were  not  very  numerous.  The  Cunninghams 
had  been  glad  to  dispose  of  their  furniture,  with  no  better 
home  than  a  boarding-house  in  view.  Lucy  was  pleased  on  sev 
eral  accounts.  It  relieved  her  from  a  world  of  perplexity,  and 
since  Mrs.  Wilder  had  declared  it  in  charming  taste,  she  was 
satisfied. 

That  lady  was  staying  in  the  house  now  to  receive  them.  She 
swept  down  the  broad  stairs  in  her  flowing  robes  and  greeted 
her  cousins  warmly. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  she  stared  a  little  at  Mrs.  Thorn- 
dike's  newly-acquired  style,  which  fitted  her  with  the  grace  of  a 
long-used  garment. 

"  A  pretty  enough  girl;"  she  said  to  her  friends,  while  des 
canting  upon  the  bride,  "  but  without  a  particle  of  taste  or  style." 

A  radiantly  beautiful  woman,  she  was  forced  to  admit  now, 
with  the  air  of  a  princess. 

Tired  as  the  poor  princess  was,  she  ran  around  to  explore 
every  nook  and  cranny — the  vases,  the  pictures,  the  brackets 
with  their  rare  article  of  virtu,  hardly  an  atom  of  beauty  es 
caped  her  eager  eyes. 

"  Does  it  suit  your  ladyship  ?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Wilder  with 
a  pretty,  but  rather  set  smile. 

"  It  is  very  beautiful,  only  there  are  not  half  enough  flow 
ers  in-doors.  Don't  you  love  them  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  I'll  send  for  some  more.  I  have  brought  you 
a  treasure  for  an  upper  servant,  Warren,  a  girl  that  has  lived 
with  a  friend  of  mine  for  several  years.  I  know  Mrs.  Thorn- 
dike  will  like  Maggie." 

Maggie  was  graciously  introduced  to  her  new  mistress, 
and  the  orde.r  for  more  flowers  given. 

Lucy  bestowed  upon  her  an  odd,  indrawn  smile. 

"  And  what  about  a  cook,  Warren  ?  " 

"  I  left  these  things  to  you,  Kate.  Lucy  will  not  want  to 
be  troubled  with  such  matters  right  away.  Give  us  a  fair  start," 
and  Warren  Thorndike  lounged  back  in  his  easy-chair. 


92  Lucia  :   Her  Problem. 

"  I  know  of  a  magnificent  cook,  but  she  objects  to  doing 
any  thing  else." 

"  In  what  way  ?  " 

"  Housework,  to  be  sure.  If  you  want  to  keep  up  a  great 
deal  of  stylish  company,  she  would  be  just  the  one." 

"  With  another  servant  to  wait  upon  her  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  We're  not  going  to  be  quite  as  grand  as  that." 

"  Oh,  Warren,  two  servants  will  surely  be  enough,"  ex 
claimed  Lucy  imploringly,  frightened  at  her  own  grandeur. 

"  I  think  so." 

"  There  is  one  here  now  that  you  may  like  pretty  well,  a  na 
tive,  I  believe.  The  minister's  wife  sent  her  over." 

"  Mrs.  Howe  ?  "  asked  Lucy. 

"No,  Mrs.  Glen  field." 

Mrs.  Thorndike  smiled  dreamily  again.  Six  weeks  ago 
Mrs.  Glenfield  would  have  stared  at  her.  How  odd  it  all 
was  ! 

"  Mrs.  Glenfield  called  one  morning,  and  I  found  her  quite 
invaluable.  You  don't  go  there  to  church,  Warren  ?  " 

"  No,  but  I  think  I  shall.  Glenfield's  a  capital  fellow ! 
And,  Kate,  oughtn't  we  to  have  some  kind  of  a  fandango  ? " 

"  Reception,"  corrected  Mrs.  Wilder,  with  elegant  ease. 

"  Yes.     Can't  you  stay  and  see  it  through  ?  " 

"  If  you — if  Mrs.  Thorndike  desires  it." 

"  Oh,  Lucy  will  be  glad  to  have  you  set  her  straight  in 
these  matters,"  and  he  laughed. 

Lucy  sat  as  one  in  a  dream.  Was  it  her  own  house  and 
her  own  future  that  they  were  so  coolly  discussing  ? 

She  was  glad  to  get  away  at  last  to  the  quiet  of  her  own 
room.  The  soft  carpet,  with  its  bright  clusters  of  flowers,  the  fall 
ing  curtains,  the  elegantly  carven  furniture  and  wide  mirrors  were 
like  a  fairy  tale.  Hers,  all  of  it.  She,  who  used  to  be  Lucy  Garth 
in  faded  stuff  dresses,  and  hair  tucked  out  of  sight !  Its  beau 
ty  clung  around  her  shoulders  now  like  a  royal  mantle. 


Lucia :   Her  Problem.  93 

She  dressed  herself  for  dinner  in  white — a  soft  India  mus 
lin  with  3  trail  sweeping  over  the  carpet,  and  her  husband's 
rubies  lending  their  glitter  of  an  autumn  sunset.  It  was  quite 
delightful  to  be  waited  upon  in  this  fashion. 

The  next  day  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Glenfield  called.  "  They  were 
really  within  his  boundary,"  the  clergyman  explained,  "  and  he 
should  be  glad  to  welcome  them  among  his  flock  if.  Mrs. 
Thorndike  desired  to  make  any  change." 

"  I  think  we  shall.  Howe's  a  good  old  soul,  but  prosy ; 
and  that  tumble-down  fabric  is  about  as  uncomfortable  a  place 
as  I  ever  was  in.  I  suppose  it  was  all  very  well  in  my  father's 
time,  but  these  old  fogies  can't  understand  that  the  world 
changes." 

"  Exactly,"  returned  Mr.  Glenfield,  with  his  most  gracious 
smile.  "  This  is  a  world  of  improvement  and  progress ;  and 
religion,  to  be  of  service,  must  keep  pace.  We  don't  want 
these  old  effete  systems,  but  something  broader  and  more  at 
tractive." 

Lucy  was  listening  to  Mrs.  Glenfield's  pretty  talk  of  flow 
ers  and  the  grand  harmonies  of  nature,  with  liberal  quotations 
from  Ruskin,  and  pity  for  "  those  unfortunate  .but  rather  impru 
dent  Cunninghams,"  and  a  great  many  kind  wishes  for  herself. 
She  was  a -very  pleasing  woman,  this  Mrs.  Glenfield. 

Now  and  then  a  sentence  from  the  clergyman  floated  over 
to  her.  Already  she  had  come  to  have  a  strange,  sensitive 
feeling  regarding  her  husband  ;  but  Mr.  Glenfield  was  bland 
and  courteous,  and  seemed  to  enter  into  the  acquaintance  with 
hearty  good  fellowship. 

Lucy  contrasted  this  with  the  religious  influences  of  her 
past.  That  was  narrow,  rigid,  and  cold,  repressing  all  the  ten 
der  feelings,  and  too  often  degenerating  into  ill-natured  gossip ; 
but  was  this  any  more  ennobling  ?  Did  it  supply  the  needs  of 
the  longing,  hungry  soul  ? 

Afterward  Mr.  Thorndike  took  his  wife  home  to  her  fa 
ther's.  He  had  met  Mr.  Garth  at  the  Mill  in  the  morning. 


94  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

Rachel  was  alone,  cold  and  precise  as  ever.  She  had  firmly 
resolved  to  set  her  face  against  the  rumored  doings  of  her  sis 
ter.  The  grand  house  should  have  no  enticements  for  her. 
Indeed,  it  had  not.  She  would  have  felt  lost  and  miserable 
amid  the  fashionable  people  with  whom  her  sister  had  cast  in 
her  lot. 

Mrs.  Wilder  knew  how  to  make  that  life  very  tempting  to 
Lucy.  To  tell  the  truth,  she  half  envied  her  cousin's  wife, 
though  she  had  never  admired  him  very  extravagantly.  She 
could  see  that  he  was  deeply  infatuated,  and  would  make  a 
very  indulgent  husband  if  properly  managed.  Then  she 
smiled  rather  contemptuously  at  the  idea  of  this  foolish  Lucy 
managing  any  one. 

"  But  she  has  so  much  in  her  hands,"  she  thought,  with  a 
touch  of  envy.  "And  yet  in  five  years'  time  he  will  make  a 
perfect  slave  of  her,  I'll  warrant.  She  loves  him  too  much  !  " 

The  reception  proved  a  grand  affair.  Mrs.  Wilder  was  in 
her  element  here.  The  guests  had  been  chosen  with  some  dis 
crimination.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thorndike  had  made  their  first  ap 
pearance  at  the  Shiloah  Church  on  Sunday  morning.  The 
bride,  in  her  elegant  mauve  silk,  with  gloves  and  parasol  to 
match,  was  considered  the  perfection  of  taste,  and  she  cer 
tainly  did  look  very  lovely. 

So  no  one  thought  of  declining  an  invitation.  The  Garths 
and  the  Thorndikes  both  belonged  to  the  oldest  families  in 
Dedham — if  that  was  any  warrant  for  gentle  blood. 

Warren  Thorndike  felt  immensely  proud  of  his  position  and 
his  success.  He  liked  to  be  the  great  man  anywhere.  When  he 
found  these  people  ready  to  do  him  honor,  he  accepted  the 
homage  as  so  much  due  his  worth.  -Where  his  father  had  made 
hundreds,  he  had  made  thousands. 

And  yet  Lucy  Thorndike  had  a  vague  consciousness  that 
she  stood  almost  alone  in  her  new  life.  She  would  have  no 
assistance  in  climbing  any  grand  height.  But  was  there  not 
enough  here  to  satisfy  ! 


Lucia :   Her  Problem.  95 

Her  love  for  luxury  developed  rapidly — her  tastes,  that  had 
hitherto  been  repressed  in  every  direction,  began  to  expand, 
and  blossomed  fairer  than  the  world  would  have  supposed. 
The  past  was  like  a  distasteful  dream  to  her,  and  she  resolved 
to  make  the  future,  that  seemed  to  lie  so  entirely  in  her  own 
hands,  brilliant  and  satisfying.  She,  too,  had  her  ambitions, 
though  she  understood  many  of  her  own  wants  and  defects. 

Warren  Thorndike  was  quite  content  to  see  her  elegantly 
-dressed  and  the  centre  of  admiration.  She  possessed  a  won 
derful  degree  of  tact  and  adaptation,  and  copied  the  small 
ways  of  society  with  the  utmost  ease  ;  and  when  she  had  once 
fairly  plunged  into  the  round  of  gayety,  she  found  it  very  en 
grossing. 

Ah,  why  must  there  always  be  some  fatal  knowledge  lurk 
ing  in  the  background  to  tempt  human  souls  ?  Why  could 
she  not  pause  and  be  satisfied  ?  Some  far-reaching  chord  in 
her  soul  had  been  touched,  and  sometimes  a  word  or  a  look, 
that  she  alone  of  all,  caught  in  her  dim  way  and  pondered, 
roused  her  strangely  and  made  her  pulses  unquiet  for  hours  af 
terward. 

Mr.  Garth  proved  less  obstinate  than  Rachel.  Condemn 
though  he  might,  he  was  secretly  proud  of  his  daughter's  posi 
tion,  and  the  manner  in  which  she  graced  it.  He  came  to  the 
grand  house  for  a  quiet  supper  now  and  then — for  business 
was  prospering  with  them,  and  that  softened  his  feelings  some 
what.  Mr.  Thorndike  had  infused  new  spirit  and  energy  into 
the  Mill,  and  though  Mr.  Garth  had  frowned  at  some  improve 
ments  in  the  beginning,  he  found  their  working  decidedly  ben 
eficial. 

But  Rachel  sat  rigid  on  her  throne.  Her  brother-in-law's 
good-natured  but  rather  clumsy  overtures  could  not  move  her? 
and  to  Lucy's  pleadings  she  turned  a  deaf  ear. 

"  Take  your  own  way,"  she  would  exclaim.  "  It  is  not  my 
place  to  advise  Warren  Thorndike's  wife  :"  and  a  sniff  of  hu 
mility  always  followed  such  a  remark.  With  that  she  would 


96  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

look  at  her  sister's  silks  and  laces  with  severely  condemnatory 
eyes. 

"  But  there  are  only  two  of  us,  and  we  might  be  friends," 
Lucy  would  plead. 

"  I  did  not  know  that  we  were  enemies.  I  am  sure  that 
I  did  my  best  for  you  while  you  were  under  my  care  " — with 
a  most  exasperating  resignation. 

"  If  you  would  only  let  me  do  something  for  you  now  ? " 

"  What  do  I  need  ?  I  am  content  with  my  own  life,  I  am 
most  thankful  to  say." 

And  then  Lucy  would  glance  around  on  the  cold,  bare  walls 
and  dull  carpet.  Not  a  ray  of  brightness,  not  a  flower — not 
even  a  warm  and  friendly  smile.  At  such  moments  she  would 
only  be  too  glad  that  she  had  escaped  it  all,  and  fly  back  to 
to  her  own  charming  home  with  a  child's  eager  delight. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  97 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AMONG     S  H  ADOWS. 

IT  was  September,  and  Lucy  Thorndike  had  been  married 
nearly  two  years  and  a  half.  She  lacked  but  a  few  weeks 
of  being  twenty.  A  little  less  than  three  years  before  she  had 
shocked  her  father's  sense  of  propriety  by  appearing  in  a  cloud 
of  golden  ringlets.  She  had  changed  somewhat  since  then, 
and  Dedham  had  changed  also.  A  new  railroad  had  given  it 
a  wonderful  impetus,  not  only  connecting  it  with  other  cities 
of  importance,  but  opening  up  a  large  iron  and  coal  district, 
and  also  a  new  route  for  extensive  grain  operations.  Mr. 
Thorndike  was  early  in  the  field  of  speculation.  He  had  seen 
enough  of  the  world  to  understand  these  advantages,  he 
thought,  and  to  turn  them  into  money,  his  one  idea. 

Then  a  company  came  to  build  a  large  iron  foundry  and 
rolling  mill.  This  brought  an  influx  of  population  ;  new  streets 
were  laid  out  and  cottages  went  up  as  if  by  magic.  The  con 
servative  element  seemed  to  fall  farther  into  the  background  ; 
and  though  the  Dorcas  Society  were  true  to  their  colors  and 
old  Mr.  Howe,  they  felt  that  they  were  no  longer  a  moving  or 
even  a  stationary  power  in  Dedham.  There  had  been  a  time 
when  a  frown  from  Miss  Kip  and  two  or  three  of  the  severely 
virtuous  would  have  been  sufficient  to  extinguish  the  volatile 
spirits  of  a  young  woman,  but  now  they  bemoaned  in  vain.  The 
young  people  went  to  social  gatherings  outside  of  their  own 
immediate  circle,  and  in  some  instances  had  been  actually 
known  to  dance  ! 
5 


98  Lucia  :   Her  Problem. 

Indeed,  Dedham  seemed  just  waking  up  and  bestirring 
itself.  Indirectly  Warren  Thorndike  and  his  wife  had  much 
to  do  with  this  movement.  She  of  course  carried  weight  from 
the  old  sphere  to  the  new.  Some  of  the  ladies  found  her  very 
charming,  and  hesitated  a  little  in  endorsing  either  Miss  Kip's 
or  her  sister's  verdict.  Perhaps,  too,  these  were  a  trifle  less 
severe. 

Looking  at  Mrs.  Thorndike  you  would  hardly  admit  that 
she  had  altered  perceptibly.  She  was  not  a  day  older  in 
appearance,  and  then  her  manner  of  dressing  was  so  much 
more  advantageous.  Her  house  was  admitted  to  be  per 
fection.  She  had  improved  somewhat  upon  the  Cunningham 
idea  of  beauty.  And  yet  there  were  hours  when  she  scarce 
ly  knew  herself — when  she  stood  in  perfect  amaze  at  the  re 
membrance  of  Lucy  Garth  as  she  had  been  only  a  brief  while 
before. 

Her  marriage  had  taken  her  into  an  entirely  new  sphere  at 
the  most  important  epoch  of  her  life.  The  powers  of  her  mind 
were  roused ;  imagination,  taste,  love  of  beauty,  and  an  exultant 
sense  of  liberty,  had  crowded  out  the  severe  and  distasteful  les 
sons  of  the  past.  She  plunged  eagerly  into  every  enjoyment, 
though  at  first  her  ideas  were  quite  simple.  But  prodigality 
grows  upon  one. 

Her  first  keen  mortification  was  at  her  own  ignorance. 
She  knew  nothing  of  music,  of  poetry,  of  intellectual  pursuits. 
Much  as  she  loved  dress  and  outward  adorning,  she  saw  that 
some  cultivation  was  necessary  if  she  was  to  stand  on  a  level 
with  those  whom  she  most  admired.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Glenfield 
had  made  much  of  her,  it  is  true,  and  under  their  auspices  she 
had  been  introduced  to  the  best  society  at  Dedham.  But  she 
learned  thus  early  that  there  was  a  power  besides  wealth,  and 
this  she  began  to  long  for,  and  debate  how  she  might  best  ac 
quire  it. 

So  she  attacked  music  indefatigably.  She  had  a  quick  ear 
and  a  fine  voice,  but  her  impatience  bid  fair  to  make  sad  work 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  99 

of  it  at  first.  And  when  her  ideals  tormented  her  beyond  en 
durance,  she  turned  to  literature. 

In  this  she  ran  riot,  as  is  the  case  with  most  untrained  minds. 
She  fairly  revelled  in  romance  of  a  much  higher  type  than  the 
stories  she  used  to  smuggle  into  her  bedroom  at  home,  and 
imagination  held  a  daily  feast.  It  might  not  have  been  healthy 
food,  but  it  was  delightful,  nevertheless,  and  there  was  no  guid" 
ing  hand  to  restrain. 

She  made  many  attempts  at  first  to  charm  her  nusband  by 
beguiling  influences.  She  was  ready  to  love  him  very  much  at 
this  period  of  her  life,  feeling  in  the  depths  of  her  grateful  heart 
that  she  owed  every  thing  to  him.  She  longed  to  include  him 
in  her  ambitions,  but  his  were  of  a  widely  different  type.  When 
she  read  to  him,  he  fell  asleep  in  his  luxurious  easy-chair ;  and 
though  he  admired  her  singing,  no  tender  depth  of  his  heart 
was  touched.  She  would  turn  her  lovely  eyes  to  him,  needing 
but  a  sympathetic  glance  to  make  them  swim  in  lustrous  tears  j 
but  the  sentiment  that  had  so  stirred  her  soul  had  no  subtle 
meaning  for  his.  And  at  such  moments  an  awful  sense  of  lone 
liness  would  rush  over  her,  a  pain  and  despair  that  she  could 
not  understand,  but  only  suffer  from. 

By  degrees  her  world  of  fancy  narrowed.  She  would  not 
have  excluded  him  from  choice,  but  her  fine  sense  of  propriety 
and  harmony  led  her  to  see  that  he  was  not  fitted  for  it.  Per 
haps  men  and  women  were  different.  He  never  wearied  in  dis 
cussing  the  new  road, 'the  rise  in  property,  the  investments  that 
were  likely  to  pay  the  best  and  all  that,  which  tired  her  exceed 
ingly.  Sometimes  three  or  four  gentlemen  dropped  in  of  an 
evening,  and  the  talk  was  all  on  business,  until  it  seemed  to 
her  that  half  the  world  must  be  crazy  about  money.  She 
said  so  to  her  husband  at  length.  He  laughed  in  his  coarse, 
good-natured  fashion,  which  seemed  to  rasp  some  sensitive 
nerve. 

"  It  is  the  great  thing,"  he  said.  "  Where  would  your  fine 
house  and  your  silks  and  diamonds  come  from  if  there  wasn't 


.100  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

any  money?  If  men  stayed  in  the  house  and  read  and  sang 
love  songs,  where  would  all  your  great  enterprises  end  ?  " 

She  glanced  intently  into  her  husband's  face.  It  was  stolid, 
and  yet  with  a  certain  shrewdness,  not  tender  or  sympathetic, 
and  with  no  fine  lines.  Where  had  she  learned  to  be  so  crit 
ical  ?  Was  it  not  sufficient  to  have  him  kind,  and  both  proud 
and  fond  of  her  ? 

This  September  day  she  was  sauntering  round  the  lawn  in 
a  most  restless  and  dissatisfied  mood.  She  had  spent  two 
weeks  at  Newport  with  Mrs.  Wilder,  and  two  weeks  at  Sara 
toga  with  her  husband.  She  had  received  much  admiration  ; 
indeed,  it  had  been  a  continual  round  of  pleasure,  and  hers 
was  a  nature  to  be  warmly  excited  by  it.  The  people  with 
whom  she  had  been  brought  in  contact  were  of  a  different  type 
even  from  those  she  had  known  at  Dedham.  So,  coming 
from  pleasure,  homage,  delicate  compliments  and  the  beguil 
ing  delights  of  music,  dancing  and  lovely,  dressing,  Dedham 
seemed  stupid. 

True,  she  could  drive  around  in  her  pony  carriage;  she 
could  fill  her  house  with  lovely  flowers,  alter  the  arrangement 
of  pictures  or  furniture,  have  the  dressmaker  in  to  freshen  up 
her  attire,  receive  calls  and  pay  them  in  return.  She  had  been 
doing  this  for  just  three  weeks  ;  and  looking  at  the  future  this 
afternoon,  seeing  the  thirty  or  forty  years  stretch  out  before 
her,  life  appeared  absolutely  insupportable. 

And  yet  there  was  Rachel  happy  and  contented,  with  no 
society  or  dressing  or  beauty  of  any  sort.  It  would  kill  her  to 
be  there. 

"  I  must  do  something,"  she  said  to  herself,  stopping  short 
in  her  walk.  "  Why  isn't  there  some  one  to  teach  me  ?  Mrs. 
Glenfield— " 

Beside  her  parish  duties  Mrs.  Glenfield  had  two  babies. 
And  then  she  was  not  the  teacher  Lucy  Thorndike  needed. 
A  kind  of  fashionable  minister's  wife  with  some  sweet  and  ad 
mirable  qualities,  but  little  depth  or  strength. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  101 

"  It's  just  as  if  I  were  hungry  all  the  time,"  she  went  on, 
pulling  some  late  roses  to  pieces  and  scattering  the  velvety 
leaves  on  the  gravelled  walk. 

Her  revery  was  interrupted  by  the  click  of  the  gate  latch, 
and  she  went  forward  mechanically  to  meet  her  husband. 
Last  summer  this  had  been  a  joy — now  she  did  it  from  habit. 

So  she  never  raised  her  eyes  until  some  occult  action  of 
the  mind  told  her  there  were  more  than  two  steps,  and  the 
other  was  that  of  a  stranger. 

She  came  to  a  sudden  pause. 

"  In  a  dream  again,  hey,  Lucy  ?  "  exclaimed  her  husband 
with  his  cheerful  jocularity.  "My  wife,  Rutherford  —  my 
friend,  Mr.  Rutherford,  Lucy." 

Paul  Rutherford  had  been  glancing  at  her  since  the  gate 
opened.  She  looked  so  like  a  child,  or  rather  hardly  grown 
girl,  that  he  was  a  little  surprised  at  the  introduction,  but  re 
sponded  in  a  courteous  manner. 

Mrs.  Thorndike  gave  him  a  startled  look,  and  then  color 
ed  deeply. 

"  See  what  it  is  to  have  a  devoted  wife,  Rutherford  !  "  and 
Mr.  Thorndike  laughed  as  he  drew  Lucy's  hand  through  his 
arm. 

She  glanced  up  again  with  a  positive  blush.  Mr.  Thorn- 
dike  had  a  way  of  perpetrating  small  and  often  execrable  jokes, 
though  for  a  moment  Lucy  could  not  tell  whether  it  was  her 
mood  that  made  it  sound  so  disagreeable,  or  whether  she  re 
belled  against  the  offence  as  a  matter  of  taste. 

Mr.  Rutherford  smiled  gravely. 

"  What  a  charming  lawn,"  he  rejoined  with  graceful  tact. 
"  Your  selection  of  trees  is  admirable." 

"  It's  what  I  call  a  handsome  place,"  said  its  owner  with 
pride.  "  I  bought  it  two  years  and  a  half  ago  for  less  than 
two-thirds  of  its  real  value — a  lucky  speculation." 

Lucy  was  in  a  critical  mood.  Her  husband's  voice  sounded 
harsh  contrasted  with  the  finely  modulated  one  of  his  friend. 


102  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

"  Fortunes  seem  to  be  lost  and  won  easily  nowadays," 
said  Mr.  Rutherford.  "  If  I  had  ever  owned  a  home  like  this 
I  should  have  been  more  than  sorry  to  relinquish  it." 

Mr.  Thorndike  began  to  enlarge  upon  the  circumstances 
which  had  led  to  his  buying  the  place,  and  they  lingered 
awhile  on  the  porch  for  him  to  finish.  Lucy  stood  a  trifle  be 
hind  the  guest,  and  had  an  excellent  side  view  of  him.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  she  already  liked  him. 

Both  face  and  figure  were  peculiar.  There  was  a  physical 
and  intellectual  force  that  impressed  you  immediately,  al 
though  it  was  hard  to  describe.  You  felt  at  once  that  he  was 
strong,  a  man  not  lightly  to  be  set  aside  or  easily  thwarted, 
cool,  wary  and  patient.  Two  inches  perhaps  taller  than  Mr. 
Thorndike,  and  yet  he  looked  more  than  that.  A  compact 
and  well-proportioned  figure,  with  a  broad,  full  chest,  and 
rather  sloping  shoulders,  his  head  set  well  back,  and  it  might 
have  been  this  that  gave  him  the  appearance  of  more  than  or 
dinary  height.  There  was  not  a  weak  line  or  a  weak  move 
ment,  and  yet  a  kind  of  sad,  self-centred  power,  as  if  some 
thing  long  ago  past  kept  him  from  glorying  in  his  strength. 

The  face  was  of  the  same  order.  Not  one  to  be  called 
handsome  at  the  first  glance,  although  the  brow  was  full  and 
broad,  the  hair  a  rich  chestnut,  and  fine  and  soft  in  texture, 
the  nose  straight,  with  flexible  nostrils,  the  mouth  good,  and 
the  abundant  beard  a  shade  or  two  deeper  than  the  hair.  It 
was  the  eyes  that  gave  the  face  its  power  and  peculiarity. 
They  were  a  bright,  yet  deep  hazel — eyes  that  could  flash  de 
vouring  flame  or  soften  to  the  tenderest  depths  of  pity.  The 
fire  of  life  was  burning  steadily  and  strongly  in  his  soul,  re 
strained  by  a  master  hand  from  any  outburst  that  might  scat 
ter  devastation  in  its  track.  He  had  learned  the  secret  of 
life,  the  art  of  keeping  calm  through  stress  of  storms  and 
trouble  that  might  have  hurried  another  on  to  destruction. 
The  habit  of  restraint,  growing  year  by  year,  had  touched  some 
underlying  chord  of  the  inner  life,  and  made  him  outwardly  tran- 


Lucia :   Her  Problem.  103 

quil,  while  his  temperament  was  ardent  and  excitable  in  the 
highest  degree.  Some  men  arm  themselves  for  destiny  long 
before,  and  when  the  fatal  hour  comes  they  are  prepared. 

Lucy  Thorndike  did  not  understand  all  this  now,  nor  for 
long  years  afterward,  yet  she  felt  that  the  man  before  her  had 
been  cast  in  an  exceptional  mould.  The  face  interested  her 
strongly,  the  voice  piqued  her  curiosity  and  lured  her  on  to  the 
verge  of  discovery. 

Mr.  Thorndike  ushered  his  guest  within  doors,  but  made 
an  abrupt  pause  in  the  hall. 

"Lucy,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  suppose  the  chambers  are  in  or 
der  ?  I  brought  Rutherford  over  for  there  was  absolutely  no 
accommodation  at  the  hotel.  What  Dedham  wants  is  a  first 
class  hotel — something  better  than  the  small  affairs  in  which  it 
abounds  at  present." 

"  Yes." 

She  uttered  the  word  rather  slowly ;  but  if  there  was  any 
suggestion  in  her  mind,  she  left  it  unspoken.  Now  and  then 
Mr.  Thorndike  exercised  his  right  of  hospitality  in  this  style, 
a  free  and  easy  way  contracted  at  the  West.  If  the  persons 
thus  invited  were  not  to  Mrs.  Thorndike's  liking,  as  it  frequent 
ly  happened,  she  saw  as  little  of  them  as  possible. 

So  Mr.  Rutherford  was  marshalled  up  the  wide  staircase 
to  a  spacious  and  airy  chamber,  where  all  was  in  complete 
order. 

"Make  yourself  at  home,"  exclaimed  his  host.  "You 
needn't  wait  up  here  until  the  dinner-bell  rings,  for  it's  quite 
early.  I  have  some  papers  to  look  over  and  send  back  with 
the  boy  who  brings  your  valise,  but  you'll  find  Mrs.  Thorndike 
in  the  library  or  parlor." 

Paul  Rutherford  turned  the  water  into  the  marble  basin, 
bathed  his  face  and  hands,  and  ran  his  wet  fingers  through  his 
hair.  All  this  time,  for  he  did  it  very  slowly,  a  sort  of  brood 
ing  quietude  being  natural  to  him,  he  was  thinking  of  Lucy 
Thorndike.  Lucy  seemed  a  soft,  characterless  kind  of  name, 


104  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

not  at  all  applicable  to  the  being  who  bore  it.  The  vision  rose 
before  him,  a  slender,  graceful  woman  in  flowing  white  robes, 
shining  golden  hair  escaping  from  its  net  in  two  or  three  long 
curls,  her  radiant  complexion  and  deep  eyes.  Very  lovely  in 
deed  in  spite  of  the  expression  of  ennui  that  he  had  been  so 
quick  to  detect.  Then  the  incongruity  of  her  marriage  flashed 
over  him. 

"  What  could  have  brought  it  about,"  he  mused.  "  Her  fa 
ther  was  rich,  it  seems,  and  she  so  young — why  she  is  only  a 
child  now !  " 

He  did  not  admire  Warren  Thorndike.  Circumstances 
had  compelled  him  to  accept  the  man's  hospitality,  and  much 
of  his  business  in  Dedham  was  connected  with  him,  so  there 
seemed  nothing  out  of  order  in  the  proceeding.  He  had  ex 
pected  to  find  a  florid,  over-dressed  woman  verging  on  towards 
middle  life,  a  counterpart  of  commonplace  wealth  without  its 
refinements  ;  and  though  she  had  only  spoken  twice,  her  air  and 
manner,  the  expression  of  her  face  and  her  soft,  rich  voice,  set 
tled  her  claim. 

He  was  a  very  fastidious  man  about  his  womenkind,  this- 
Paul  Rutherford,  although  he  had  much  chivalry  for  the  sex. 
But  the  one  who  commended  herself  to  his  attention  must  pos 
sess  some  peculiar  grace  or  characteristic.  Loud-voiced,  dom 
inant  women,  purse-proud  vulgar  ones,  or  the  shallow  dolls  of 
society  were  alike  distasteful.  Indeed,  he  rarely  met  one  to 
whom  he  gave  more  than  a  passing  thought 

."  I  suppose  the  match  was  of  her  father's  making ; "  he 
continued.  "  Sold  for  a  little  money  perhaps,  poor  child  ! 
There  is  a  tired  yearning  look  in  her  eyes  as  if  she  had  found 
nothing  to  satisfy  her." 

He  brushed  his  hair  carefully,  pulled  his  cravat  straight  and 
walked  to  the  window.  A  very  inviting  room  and  a  very  in 
viting  prospect.  He  felt  strangely  at  home,  it  must  be  con 
fessed. 

Mrs.  Thorndike  had  been  to  the  kitchen  to  announce  the 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  105 

guest  and  give  some  orders.  In  spite  of  Rachel's  dismal  fore 
boding,  her  house  was  very  nicely  conducted.  She  was  fortu 
nate  in  having  efficient  servants,  but  she  was  by  no  means  an 
ignorant  mistress,  neither  was  she  unreasonable. 

She  walked  back  to  the  library  and  took  up  her  novel  at 
the  place  she  had  left  off  an  hour  before. 

"  If  there  was  any  thing  like  it  in  real  life  ; "  she  said  with  a 
sigh.  "  If  one  met  noble  and  earnest  souls,  and  found  true 
friends — " 

A  face  smiled  in  the  doorway.  There  was  something  fresh 
and  strong  and  promising  in  the  smile,  and  she  half  rose. 

"  Mr.  Thorndike  said  that  I  should  find  you  here,"  he  be 
gan,  as  if  in  apology  for  the  intrusion. 

"  Yes.     He  is  unavoidably  busy.     Will  you  be  seated  ?  " 

He  crossed  the  room  and  placed  himself  by  the  opposite 
window.  What  an  atmosphere  of  rare  grace  surrounded  this 
woman,  the  innate  refinement  of  a  high  soul  ! 

There  was  a  soft  sunset  dying  in  the  west.  Through  an 
opening  in  the  trees  rays  of  gold  melted  into  rosy  haze,  and  the 
tint  of  purple  twilight  loomed  slowly  upward  from  the  distant 
hills. 

He  followed  her  eyes. 

"  How  very  beautiful !  "  he  said  ;  "  soft  and  tranquil  as  the 
close  of  day  should  be." 

"  When  it  has  been  a  satisfactory  day." 

"  Are  there  not  sometimes  good  endings  to  days  that  are 
filled  with  trouble  and  perplexity  ?  " 

He  turned  his  keen  eyes  upon  her  so  suddenly  that  she 
flushed. 

"  But  after  all,  the  day  has  little  to  do  with  one's  mood," 
she  made  answer,  disregarding  his  question. 

"Are  you  subject  to  no  such  impressions  ?  I  should  judge 
that  you  had  a  very  susceptible  temperament." 

"  Should  you  ? "  with  a  bright  smile  of  interest.  "  I  did  not 
mean  exactly  that,  Mr.  Rutherford.  A  dull  da}'  often  depresses 
5* 


106  Lucia:   He)'  Problem. 

one  when  there  seems  no  other  cause,  but  it  is  not  always  true 
that  one  is  happy  on  a  bright  day." 

There  was  an  expression  of  grave  questioning  in  his  eyes, 
and  yet  he  did  not  speak. 

"  At  least  I  am  not,"  she  continued  frankly. 

"  Did  you  ever  decide  just  what  was  necessary  for  your 
happiness  ? " 

"  How  odd !  No,  I  am  sure  that  I  have  not.  I  do.  not 
believe  that  I  could  tell." 

"  Are  you  unhappy  ? " 

She  flushed  again  and  then  she  laughed,  a  clear,  bell-like 
sound  that  was  enchanting. 

"  No,"  she  made  answer.  "  It  would  be  folly  to  give  it  so 
active  a  name.  A  little  dissatisfaction  and  restlessness  that 
haunts  me  when  I  am  idle." 

"  And  idleness  is  the  root  of  much  misery." 

"  But  what  is  a  woman  to  do,  Mr.  Rutherford  ?  I  don't 
love  to  work.  I  never  did." 

"  Honest,  at  all  events ;"  and  he  laughed  this  time. 

It  was  a  light,  pleasant  sound,  and  yet  perplexing.  She 
glanced  up  as  if  she  were  studying  it. 

"  Men  can  always  find  some  business  or  some  ambition  to 
gratify.  But  after  a  woman  is  married — " 

She  made  a  long  pause. 

"  After  she  is  married — ''  he  repeated,  looking  at  her  in 
tently  and  compelling  her  to  speak,  as  it  were. 

"  If  she  is  rich  she  has  servants  to  do  her  work.  There 
are  calls,  shopping,  driving  for  pleasure,  the  bother  and  ex 
citement  of  having  a  dressmaker,  gossip  and  parties,  and  a  lit 
tle  reading  when  life  grows  too  stale.  I  wish  something 
would  happen" to  me  as  it  does  to  the  book  heroines." 

"  What !  to  have  a  fortune  left  you  ? " 

"  No,  I  should  not  care  for  that." 

"  To  lose  yours  ? " 

"That   would   be  an  excitement,  but   as  I  told  vou  be- 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  107 

fore,  I  do  not  like  to  work.  No,  I  think  I  will  not  take  pov 
erty." 

"  Do  not  wish  for  any  thing  else,"  he  said  suddenly,  for  he, 
knowing  the  world,  was  aware  of  one  more  danger  that  might 
cross  a  woman's  path. 

"  Then  I  must  be  content  with  the  small  round  that  some 
times  wearies  me  intolerably,"  she  said  almost  pettishly. 

"  Can  you  not  enlarge  that  a  little  ?  Has  it  so  few  duties  ? 
Does  it  not  comprehend  nearly  all  that  a  woman  needs  ? " 

There  was  a  shuffling  step  on  the  porch,  and  at  the  same 
instant  Mr.  Thorndike  ran  clumsily  down  the  stairs  and  gave 
a  loud  greeting  through  the  screen  door,  as  the  other  had  been 
opened  for  air. 

"  Just  ready  for  you,  my  lad  !     Did  you  bring  the  valise  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  And  here  are  the  papers.  They're  tied  up  so  that  you 
can't  possibly  lose  one.  Be  sure  that  you  deliver  them 
rightly." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

As  he  turned,  the  dinner-bell  rang,  and  he  ushered  his 
guest  into  the  dining-room  with  an  air  of  pride,  as  if  the  latter 
might  reasonably  be  astonished  at  the  display.  Lucy  flushed 
and  drew  her  brows  together.  She  showed  too  soon  where 
the  thorns  wounded  her. 


108  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 


CHAPTER  X. 

TAKING    COUNSEL. 

MR.  RUTHERFORD  was  a  critical  man,  and  yet  he 
would  not  have  guessed  that  Mrs.  Thorndike  had  not 
been  born  to  this  state  and  elegance.  She  presided  so  grace 
fully,  she  had  that  half  indifferent  air  as  if  she  had  lived  so  long 
among  luxuries  that  they  wearied  her,  and  in  her  conversation 
she  was  choice  and  refined.  She  had  another  quality  that  he 
remarked  very  soon,  and  honored  her  for  it. 

When  Lucy  Thorndike  first  began  to  shield  her  husband's 
little  faults,  smooth  down  his  roughnesses  and  cover  his  vulgar 
commonplace  with  her  fine  tact,  she  hardly  knew.  At  first  he 
had  been  strongly  idealized,  or  rather,  through  their  brief  ac 
quaintance,  she  had  no  means  of  understanding  him  thorough 
ly.  She  was  eminently  loyal  in  her  affections,  and  at  that  pe 
riod  of  her  life  would  have  worshipped  him  as  a  god,  had  he 
possessed  any  godlike  attributes. 

His  ways  did  not  jar  upon  her  soul  as  keenly  as  her  father's 
and  Rachel's,  for  here  there  was  unlimited  indulgence.  There 
fore,  out  of  pure  gratitude  she  made  herself  blind  to  his  foibles, 
and  began  the  habit  of  covering  them  up  to  herself,  which  was 
very  easily  extended  to  the  rest  of  the  world.  So  now  she 
made  him  appear  at  his  best  estate. 

It  was  not  much  that  she  said,  to  be  sure,  for  her  husband 
talked  in  his  loud  energetic  way  about  some  business  advantages 
into  which  he  was  endeavoring  to  persuade  Mr.  Rutherford ; 
but  her  soft  tones  now  and  then  seemed  to  restore  an  equilibrium. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  109 

They  sat  a  long  while  over  their  wine,  while  she  toyed  with 
her  grapes  and  almonds,  and  dangerously  contrasted  the  two 
men.  There  was  such  a  wide  difference  between  them.  She 
had  thought  of  this  before,  when  she  had  seen  him  with  others 
who  were  his  superiors,  but  to-night  it  gave  her  a  peculiar  sad 
ness  that  rendered  her  the  more  lovely. 

They  had  just  risen  from  the  table  when  a  messenger  came 
for  Mr.  Thorndike.  Mrs.  Thorndike  led  the  way  to  the  draw 
ing  room,  but  was  presently  summoned  by  her  husband. 

•'  Lucy  !"  he  said  impatiently,  for  he  did  not  at  all  like  be 
ing  interrupted,  "  look  over  my  desk  and  find  those  Harvard 
papers.  Jim's  sick  with  a  fever,  and  can't  start  off  to-morrow, 
as  I  expected.  Hang  it !  Every  thing  always  goes  wrong  in 
a  heap." 

Her  deft  and  dainty  fingers  found  their  way  through  the 
numberless  packages  with  which  the  desk  was  filled,  for  Mr. 
Thorndike  had  a  trick  of  keeping  many  of  his  valuable  papers 
at  home. 

"  Here  they  are,"  she  announced,  glancing  at  the  label. 

"  Now  find — but  no,  I'll  do  it  myself.  Lucy — " 

"  Well,"  she  answered,  and  a  long  pause  followed. 

He  ran  through  the  package  and  made  several  selections, 
quite  forgetting  that  she  awaited  his  bidding. 

"  Lucy—" 

"  What  else  can  I  do  ? " 

She  looked  as  if  she  might  fly  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  at 
his  summons. 

"  Nothing  but  listen.  Make  yourself  as  agreeable  as  pos 
sible  to  Rutherford  to-night." 

"  Why  ?  "  with  her  old  arch  smile. 

"  Because  I  want  you  to.  Jim  couldn't  have  done  a  worse 
thing  than  to  fall  sick,  for  now  I  must  post  some  one  else  off 
to  New  York  to-morrow,  or  what  is  worse,  go  myself.  And  I 
wanted  to  get  Rutherford  to  commit  himself  to-night.  The 
man  has  a  mint  of  money  to  invest." 


110  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  But  I  don't  know  any  thing  about  the  business,"  she  said, 
in  a  rather  amused  tone. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  expect  that  of  you.  You're  not  as  long  head 
ed  as  your  sister  Rachel,  but  you're  a  sight  prettier,  and  that 
takes  wonderfully  with  us  poor  fools,"  and  he  chuckled. 

She  never  felt  angry  when  he  compared  her  with  Rachel  in 
this  manner,  or  jealous,  when  he  spent  whole  evenings  at  home, 
as  it  always  appeared  natural  to  call  the  old  place,  discussing 
business  projects  with  her  father  and  sister.  She  preferred 
staying  by  herself  and  reading  novels. 

"  I  asked  Rutherford  here  with  a  purpose,"  he  went  on. 
"  We  may  as  well  have  the  benefit  of  his  money  as  any  one 
else.  So  you  make  it  pleasant  for  him  this  evening.  I'm  sor 
ry  enough  to  go." 

"  I  will  do  my  best,"  she  returned,  rather  gratified  at  the 
idea  of  so  great  an  exercise  of  hospitality. 

"  Run  down  now.  I'd  like  Rutherford  to  stay  a  week  at 
least — so  don't  be  backward  about  inviting  him." 

She  laid  her  hand  on  her  husband's  arm  and  looked  stead 
ily  into  his  eyes. 

"  Warren,"  she  said,  slowly,  "  it  is  all  right !  There  is  no 
danger  of  your  speculations  going  wrong,  as  sometimes  hap 
pens  ! " 

"  Danger !  No  ; "  and  his  loud,  unmusical  laugh  grated  on 
her  ears. 

She  was  barely  seated  when  her  husband  entered,  partially 
explaining  the  sudden  interruption,  and  excusing  his  absence 
in  a  most  profuse  manner. 

"  And  so  I  must  leave  you  to  the  tender  mercies  of  Mrs. 
Thorndike  ; "  he  said,  with  his  adieu.  "  Lucy,  don't  let  him 
fall  asleep.  I'll  not  stay  late." 

Mrs.  Thorndike  was  really  glad  to  have  him  go.  He  al 
ways  seemed  to  make  such  a  stir  and  confusion  with  his  eager 
bustling  about. 

As  for  Lucy  Thorndike,  she  quite  enjoyed  the  command  of 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  Ill 

making  herself  agreeable  to  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Rutherford. 
And  yet  a  girlish  sense  of  embarrassment  seized  her  when  she 
was  left  quite  alone.  She  did  not  feel  half  as  free  as  she  had 
over  in  the  library. 

But  Mr.  Rutherford  was  not  the  kind  of  man  to  sit  in  awk 
ward  silence.  Truth  to  tell,  he  was  not  quite  sure  but  that  he 
should  enjoy  this  quiet  evening  best.  There  had  been  an  after 
noon  of  rambling  around  and  diving  into  every  thing,  added  to 
his  morning's  journey — and  altogether  he  felt  rather  fatigued. 

How  could  they  think  sitting  there  comparative  strangers, 
of  the  influence  they  were  to  exercise  over  each  other's  lives  ! 
This  careless  conversation  beginning  with  Dedham  and  its  fu 
ture  prospects,  she  intent  only  upon  playing  hostess  in  a  charm 
ing  manner  and  pleasing  her  husband,  for  then  most  of  her 
aims,  so  far  as  she  had  any,  were  his ;  and  Mr.  Rutherford  lis 
tening  in  rather  luxurious  content,  was  destined  to  sway  an 
eventful  future. 

She  did  make  herself  very  bewitching.  Leaving  the  com 
monplace  topics  at  length  she  soared  to  flights  of  fancy  which 
opened  the  far  regions  of  her  soul'.  It  was  so  rarely  that  she 
felt  free  to  touch  upon  these  hidden  springs,  so  seldom  that 
she  found  a  listener  to  her  taste. 

He  saw  the  manner  of  life  in  which  she  might  revel,  he  read 
it  in  the  flush  on  her  brow,  the  quiver  of  her  lip  and  the  excited 
breath  that  made  her  falter,  or  sent  the  words  along  with  a  pe 
culiar  rush  and  thrill.  It  answered  to  some  dim  dream  in  his 
nature. 

"  And  you  have  always  lived  in  this  little  town  ?  "  he  asked 
presently. 

"  I  never  was  ten  miles  beyond  it  until  my  marriage." 

"  You  are  still  in  bridehood  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  and  she  laughed  gayly.  "  I  feel  quite  ancient 
when  I  look  back  to  that  past  girlhood." 

"  Childhood,"  he  corrected. 

"  Yes,  it  was  that." 


112  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

"  You  have  a  peculiar  nature,"  he  said  with  a  grave  half 
smile.  "  When  I  first  saw  you,  weariness  and  ennui  were  im 
pressed  upon  your  brow." 

"  You  read  that  ? " 

"  I  fancied  that  I  did.  Now  you  are  like  a  changeful  ray 
of  light ;  first  you  dazzle  over  the  water,  making  it  sparkle  with 
gems,  then  you  bring  to  view  some  dryad  nook  from  far  forest, 
or  haunt  of  fairies.  Which  am  I  to  believe — this  mood  or  that 
of  a  few  hours  ago  ? " 

"Believe  both,  Mr.  Rutherford,"  she  said,  "believe  both." 

"  I  do  desire  to  believe  that  you  are  happy,"  he  said  in  an 
earnest  tone,  for  he  felt  that  she  was  one  who  had  better  not 
be  roused  to  higher  views.  Let  her  go  on  like  a  dancing  but 
terfly.  The  cross  of  life  in  its  bitterness  would  be  too  heavy  a 
weight  for  her. 

She  saw  how  she  had  misled  him.  What  mattered  his 
opinion  ?  In  a  day  or  two  he  would  be  gone,  and  it  was  quite 
possible  that  she  should  never  see  him  again.  She  had  enter 
tained  him  and  that  was  sufficient.  He  would  remember  her 
as  a  pretty  bright  woman,  fanciful,  frivolous,  leaving  no  perma 
nent  mark  anywhere. 

Then  she  glanced  at  that  face  of  inflexible  strength  and  in 
tegrity.  The  man  or  woman  who  could  of  right  call  him  friend 
was  doubly  blest.  She  envied  this  fortunate  creature. 

Some  wild,  daring  impulse  urged  her  on. 

"  I  do  not  think  that  I  have  ever  known  happiness  in  your 
acceptation  of  the  term,"  she  exclaimed  with  sudden  vehemence ; 
"  or  if  so  for  a  brief  moment." 

Her  words  and  tone  startled  him  out  of  his  composure, 
and  the  resolve  he  had  made  concerning  her. 

•'  Yet  why  should  you  not  be  happy  ? "  he  said  almost 
coldly. 

"True,"  and  there  was  a  light  mockery  in  her  voice  and 
smile.  "  1  have  all  that  wealth  can  bestow,  a  husband  who 
adores  me  in  his  fashion,  which  I  dare  say  is  as  good  as  tlie 


Lucia:   Htr   Problem.  113 

regard  men  usually  give  to  that  which  is  not  gold  ;  youth, 
health,  beauty,"  and  she  made  a  short,  abrupt  pause.  '*  Yet 
sometimes  I  ask  myself  what  I  am  living  for,  and  who  is  made 
the  better  for  my  presence  ?  If  I  were  to  drop  out  of  sight  to 
morrow,  I  should  be  covered  by  the  next  wave  and  forgotten." 

"  There  is  something  better  and  higher,"  he  said  with  the 
tone  of  a  man  who  knew. 

"  But  how  to  find  it  ?  " 

Her  deep  eyes  were  turned  full  upon  him,  and  he  started 
at  the  spirit  that  he  had  evoked. 

"  That  ought  not  to  be  a  difficult  task  for  a  woman." 

"  Don't  treat  me  to  platitudes,  Mr.  Rutherford.  I  used  to 
have  them  a  year  or  two  ago  dinned  into  my  ears  until  they 
ached.  It  is  harder  for  a  woman  to  get  into  the  right  place 
than  it  is  for  a  man.  He  can  confess  to  ambition,-  love  of 
power,  he  can  join  in  the  exciting  strife,  and  if  he  fails  there  is 
always  some  friendly  hand  to  raise  him  up  and  to  enable  him 
to  try  again.  But  who  would  have  confidence  in  a  woman 
after  her  failure?  Who  would  fancy  that  it  hurt  her  to  be 
laughed  at  for  her  want  of  success  ?  " 

Her  eyes  were  in  a  blaze  of  dangerous  light,  and  her  words 
rang  out  crisp  and  sharp. 

"  Women  rarely  try  in  earnest,  and  are  too  easily  discour 
aged.  And  God  made  their  sphere  to  differ." 

"  So  we  come  back  to  our  dressing  and  dancing.  When 
we  want  something  a  little  higher  and  more  ennobling  we  have 
— dreams." 

Her  beautiful  scarlet  lip  curled  in  scorn. 

"  And  you  look  down  upon  us  from  the  shadow  of  your 
broad,  clear  brains,  smiling  at  our  little  failures  and  commend 
ing  us  to  the  smaller  graces  of  life." 

"  Are  they  to  be  despised  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Heaven  forbid.  And  yet  if  they  are  so  lovely,  why  do 
you  not  practice  them  ?  There  would  be  room  for  both,  I 
think." 


114  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

He  smiled  sadly. 

"  We  are  all  at  fault,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone. 

A  step  crunched  on  the  gravel  walk  without. 

"  And  I  have  been  talking  rank  heresy,"  she  exclaimed 
with  a  gay  laugh.  "  I  will  promise  to  give  you  a  different 
course  at  breakfast." 

Warren  Thorndike  came  up  the  porch  and  entered  at  the 
French  window.  The  room  presented  a  very  elegant  appear 
ance  in  the  softened  light  of  the  chandelier,  and  his  wife  looked 
very  handsome  sitting  in  her  high-backed  crimson  chair,  her 
clear  brow  without  the  slighest  mark  of  care,  and  her  cheeks 
delicately  flushed. 

Her  reign  was  over,  she  well  knew,  but  she  abdicated 
gracefully.  Mr.  Thorndike  proposed  an  adjournment  to  the 
library,  and  rang  for  wine  and  cigars.  Mrs.  Thorndike  bade 
them  both  good-night. 

Paul  Rutherford  sipped  at  the  edge  of  his  wine-glass,  but 
did  not  smoke.  Mr.  Thorndike  was  loud  and  eager,  and  as 
the  other  listened  he  wondered  again  and  again  what  fateful 
charm  had  brought  these  two  together. 

"  For  she  has  an  impulsive  and  passionate  nature,"  he 
mused,  '  quick  to  catch  at  any  promise  of  beauty  or  delight. 
Her  dreamy  and  refined  enthusiasms,  her  mysterious  and  unde 
fined  aspirations,  her  rare  spiritual  appreciation,  crude  as  it 
is,  render  her  the  more  liable  to  temptation  from  without  and 
within.  If  she  had  but  love  for  her  safeguard — " 

Then  he  roused  himself  and  attended  to  his  host,  but  he 
was  thankful  when  he  could  retire  with  respectable  grace. 

As  for  Lucy,  she  went  straight  to  her  room,  and  as  was  her 
fashion  when  strongly  excited,  buried  her  face  in  her  hands 
and  gave  vent  to  a  flood  of  foolish  tears.  •  Some  inward  sobs 
shook  her  slight  frame,  but  they  grew  fainter  and  fainter. 

"  Of  what  avail  is  it  ?  "  she  began  vehemently.  "  Was  not 
he  right  who  said — '  Eat,  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die  ? '  Why 
this  continual  longing  for  something  beyond  our  reach !  If 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  115 

fate  had  placed  me  elsewhere,  I  too  might  have  come  up  to 
some  grand  height,  but  Lucy  Garth  or  Lucy  Thorndike,  the 
weight  of  a  millstone  hangs  around  your  neck  !  " 

The  new  life  on  which  she  had  counted  in  her  ignorant 
girlhood  had  proved  a  failure.  She  was  impatient  with  those 
of  her  kind  who  were  not  congenial,  and  to-night  she  stood  as  fa 
tally  alone  as  in  the  dreary  little  bed-chamber  at  her  father's. 
She  liked  this  better,  because  the  luxury  appealed  to  the  sen 
suous  side  of  her  nature,  but  she  had  no  friend  to  whom  she 
could  open  her  heart. 

She  had  tried  her  husband.  His  coarse,  good-humored 
materialism  was  a  trifle  more  endurable  than  Rachel's  rigid 
coldness,  but  it  checked  that  source  of  highest  and  sweetest 
confidence  just  as  effectually.  He  could  no  more  under 
stand  her  than  if  she  had  talked  Sanscrit.  And  the  misfortune 
was  that  every  thing  tended  to  spiritualize  her.  Certain  pas 
sages  in  music  always  moved  her  to  tears,  a  sentence  from  a 
favorite  author  stirred  every  pulse  of  her  being,  or  the  senti 
ment  of  a  poem  roused  her  from  earthliness,  and  moved  her  to 
strange,  high  desires,  quite  unattainable,  as  she  realized  the 
next  hour. 

There  was  a  certain  volatile  essence  in  her  composition. 
If  these  moods  had  lasted,  her  wild  struggles  for  light  would 
have  brought  about  some  result ;  but  at  the  most  important 
moment  some  incident  diverted  her.  We  do  not  all  reach  the 
highest  standard  at  twenty,  you  know. 

And  although  Mrs.  Thorndike  had  many  admirers  in  Ded- 
ham,  she  was  not  a  general  favorite.  Mediocrity  is  always 
startled  at  the  word  "peculiar,"  when  applied  to  a  woman. 
It  may  include  some  hidden  danger,  an  earthquake  at  one's 
feet,  to  yawn  frightfully  at  any  moment. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Glenfield  had  first  tried  their  hand  with  her. 
They  had  been  warmly  welcomed  among  the  Shiloah  congre 
gation,  and  Lucy  was  prepared  to  find  something  higher  and 
finer  than  all  that  had  gone  before. 


11G  Lucia:   Xler  I'robtem. 

A  truly  noble  woman  might  have  exercised  a  great  and 
beneficial  influence  over  Lucy  at  this  period.  Mrs.  Glenfield 
was  lady-like  and  superficial.  She  pretended  to  a  certain  in 
tellectuality  ;  indeed,  in  her  school  days  had  quite  signalized 
herself  by  some  literary  productions,  but  now  she  rested  grace 
fully  on  her  husband's  laurels.  Lucy  amazed  her  by  broach 
ing  bold  theories,  at  which  the  soft,  womanly  woman  recoiled, 
and  she  found  that  she  was  trusting  to  a  broken  reed.  Then 
she  tried  Mr.  Glenfield  in  all  honesty. 

She  interested  and  amused  him,  nay  more,  unwittingly  flat 
tered  his  self-love,  of  which  he  possessed  no  small  share.  She 
had  come  to  learn,  but  the  fact  that  she  had  come  to  him  quite 
overwhelmed  the  truth,  and  he  fed  her  with  sweet,  tasteless 
crumbs,  such  as  men  too  often  dole  out  to  women.  She  was 
so  honest  and  earnest  that  she  never  understood  what  an  object 
of  admiration  she  became  to  him.  I  do  not  mean  that  he 
would  have  degraded  his  priestly  office  or  his  pride  of  position 
by  any  unlawful  love,  but  he  did  like  to  linger  in  her  presence, 
to  drop  in  of  an  afternoon  and  run  over  a  few  duets  with  her, 
to  lunch  or  dine,  as  the  case  happened,  when  he  could  do  so 
alone.  He  fancied  he  enjoyed  these  little  informal  hospitali 
ties  so  much  better ;  but  the  truth  was  he  was  more  at  liberty 
without  Mrs.  Glenfield. 

Lucy  would  have  been  shocked  if  she  had  known  herself 
the  object  of  such  a  regard  and  such  attentions.  She  was  not 
keen  sighted  in  these  matters.  Mrs.  Glenfield  was  not  long  in 
making  the  discovery,  aided  by  a  little  chronic  jealousy.  And 
yet,  inconsistent  being,  she  could  hardly  forgive  Lucy  for  being 
so  utterly  unconscious  of  her  husband's  charms. 

The  warmer  part  of  the  friendship  died  out,  as  those  things 
usually  do,  when  no  strong  feeling  is  enlisted.  Mrs.  Glenfield 
smiled  very  sweetly,  and  said  of  her — 

"  Mrs.  Thorndike  is  peculiar,  but  what  can  one  expect 
of  her  youth  and  her  training,  and  we  must  make  allowance 
for  the  great  change  in  position  that  was  brought  about  by 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  117 

her  marriage.  I  always  hope  for  the  best  of  every  human 
soul." 

At  which  her  listeners  rolled  their  eyes  and  clasped  their 
hands.  Such  a  lovely  and  charitable  woman  ! 

So  Lucy  Thorndike,  being  insensible  to  the  admiration  of 
the  one  and  the  graceful  patronage  of  the  other,  was  allowed 
to  wander  out  of  the  fold  if  she  so  elected.  The  ladies  always 
came  to  her  for  any  charity  they  had  on  hand,  and  she  gave 
freely. 

Then  she  turned  her  attention  to  the  more  worldly  minded. 
Fresh  to  the  gayeties  of  society,  she  entered  upon  them  with  a 
wonderful  zest  and  eagerness  that  quite  shocked  the  ancient 
spinsters  she  had  left  so  far  behind.  Warren  Thorndike  enjoy 
ed  the  parties  to  some  extent.  He  liked  the  suppers  and  the 
wines  and  the  business  talk  of  the  men,  so  Lucy  danced  and 
laughed  with  others,  some  of  whom  were  very  attractive  young 
persons. 

She  was  tiring  of  this  second  stage  now.  She  had  a  sharp 
tongue,  and  was  too  honest  to  be  made  the  victim  of  foolish 
flatteries,  so  some  of  those  who  had  met  with  a  decided  rebuff 
endorsed  Mrs.  Glenfield's  verdict — peculiar. 

Not  that  she  stood  alone  outwardly.  Her  dinners  and 
parties  were  too  elegant  to  miss,  and  Mr.  Thorndike  was  be 
coming  too  much  of  a  power  in  Dedham  to  affront,  so  if  the 
wives  had  any  fault  to  find,  the  husbands  invariably  smoothed 
it  over. 

She  was  a  little  proud  of  her  power.  It  was  something  to 
drive  through  the  town  in  her  pony-carriage  and  have  hosts  of 
smiles  and  nods  bestowed  upon  her.  She  possessed  exquisite 
taste  in  dressing,  and  though  the  articles  might  be  copied,  and 
frequently  were,  her  style  was  her  very  own  and  beyond  reach 
of  imitation. 

But  the  bitter  hours  of  loneliness  that  her  soul  knew  could 
never  be  shared.  Some  fateful  shadow  stood  between  her  and 
happiness,  and  not  unfrequently  the  cry  for  rest  and  comfort 


118  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

passed  those  brilliant  lips  that  an  hour  before  had  been  wreath 
ed  in  gayest  smiles. 

It  was  this  discrepancy  in  life  that  so  tormented  her,  this 
change  of  moods  without  any  apparent  cause. 

"  If  I  only  had  one  true  and  tender  friend,"  she  moaned, 
as  she  shook  out  the  long  golden  curls  that  had  first  caught 
Mr.  Thorndike's  eye  and  heart.  "  No,  he  could  never  like  me,'' 
she  added  as  an  after  thought.  "  I  am  silly  and  weak,  and  turn 
ed  about  with  every  mood.  Oh !  mother,  mother,  why  was  I 
born  at.all ! " 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  119 


CHAPTER  XI. 

• 

WITH    THE    TIDE. 

^  I  AHREE  days  had  elapsed  and  Paul  Rutherford  was  still 
JL  Mr.  Thorndike's  guest.  Business  grew  upon  him,  and 
every  night  left  something  to  be  undertaken  on  the  morrow. 
The  investments  promised  very  fair.  He  had  become  guar 
dian  for  the  child  of  a  friend,  and  just  now  there  was  a  consid 
erable  amount  of  funds  lying  idle,  besides  much  of  his  own. 
But  he  was  a  wary  man,  and  wanted  to  be  quite  sure  before  he 
risked  much. 

Mrs.  Thorndike  had  seen  very  little  of  him.  Her  husband 
took  him  off  in  the  morning,  and  perhaps  by  accident  they  drop 
ped  in  to  lunch,  and  at  dinner  there  was  always  company, 
half  a  dozen  men  who  were  presidents  or  directors  or  secreta 
ries,  and  who  appeared  to  have  the  art  of  money-making  always 
at  their  tongue's  end.  They  sat  a  long  while  at  the  table  and 
then  adjourned  to  the  library,  where  wine  and  cigars  were 
served,  and  no  women  were  needed  to  grace  this  festal  board. 

Lucy  Thorndike  dressed  herself  with  exquisite  care  every 
day.  She  did  not  desire  to  attract  any  one,  but  simply  to  please 
herself.  At  one  time  she  made  her  hair  a  mass  of  silken  waves ; 
another,  it  was  a  coil  of  shining  braids,  with  here  and  there  a 
stray  curl  escaped  from  bands.  There  seemed  to  be  no  end 
to  her  diversity,  and  each  new  attempt  rendered  her  lovelier. 

To  Mr.  Rutherford  her  patient  grace  was  something  remark 
able.  She  had  not  looked  ennuied  since  that  first  night.  In- 


120  Lucia:  Her  Problem, 

deed,  he  began  to  question  now  whether  this  had  not  been 
partly  due  to  imagination.  Still,  she  had  confessed  that  she 
was  not  happy  !  How  could  she  be  ? 

For  that  she  had  fine  feelings,  rare  sympathy,  and  a  tender 
soul,  he  could  not  question.  Each  day  he  was  drawn  more 
closely  toward  her.  Not  in  any  sense  of  love.  The  man  was 
too  essentially  noble  to  have  one  thought  derogatory  to  her  or 
any  woman.  His  was  not  a  nature  to  love  easily.  He  must  re 
spect  and  admire  a  long  while  before  he  could  yield  his  soul,  for 
with  it,  -to  him,  went  the  larger  part  of  liberty. 

Unwittingly  he  endorsed  the  verdict  against  her.  She 
was  peculiar.  Sometimes  as  he  watched  her,  for  he  had  keen 
eyes  and  saw  what  passed  around  him  without  much  effort, 
he  really  longed  to  rouse  her  soul  and  direct  it  aright  as 
the  kindest  of  brothers  might  have  done ;  but  prudence  re 
strained  him.  Would  it  be  for  the  best  ?  Was  wisdom  such  a 
boon? 

She  was  putting  on  her  driving-gloves  one  afternoon,  and 
her  pony  phaeton  stood  at  the  door,  when  he  sauntered  up  the 
walk.  She  certainly  could  not  accuse  him  of  looking  ill,  so  she 
smiled  in  her  radiant  fashion,  and  said  carelessly, 

"Where  is  Mr.  Thorndike?  " 

"  He  went  to  Graysburg  an  hour  ago.  I  was  to  tell  you 
not  to  wait  dinner  for  him,  as  he  cannot  be  back  before  nine 
this  evening." 

"  And  you  ? "  she  continued,  rather  hesitatingly. 

"  O,  do  not  disturb  yourself  about  me,"  he  answered  in  a 
cheerful  voice.  "  I  thought  I  would  give  my  brain  rest  for  an 
hour  or  two,  as  it  has  been  rather  overcrowded  of  late.  I  shall 
do  very  well  alone." 

She  knew  by  that  his  intention  was  to  remain  indoors  ;  and 
thinking  of  what  her  husband  had  said  in  the  beginning,  she 
almost  fancied  that  it  was  her  duty  to  stay  at  home  and  enter 
tain  him.  And  there  was  just  the  faintest  tinge  of  disappoint 
ment  in  his  face. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  121 

Then  she  remembered  that  she  had  started  to  take  some 
word  to  Rachel,  who  asked  a  favor  so  seldom,  that  it  would  not 
be  wise  to  neglect  this  one. 

"  I  wish  you  would  go  with  me,"  she  said  earnestly. 

"  Do  you?     Is  it  just  a  mere  pleasure  drive?" 

"  We  will  drive  for  pleasure.  Then  I  am  going  to  make 
one  call — on  a  lady." 

There  was  a  mischievous  light  playing  about  her  eyes.  He 
drew  down  his  brows. 

"  My  sister,"  she  pursued.  "  You  have  not  seen  her,  I 
think." 

"  No,  though  I  have  been  in  the  habit  of  meeting  your  father 
daily." 

"Well,  will  you  go?" 

"Yes." 

Something  in  his  ready  compliance  rather  piqued  her.  Did 
he  fancy  that  her  sister  might  be  like  her  ?  she  wondered. 

She  came  down  the  steps,  and  was  handed  in  with  grave 
courteousness.  He  took  the  reins. 

"  But  you  must  direct,"  he  said. 

"  We  will  drive  straight  down  the  street  first.  It  is  the 
prettiest  in  Dedham,  I  think.  These  touches  of  autumn  im 
prove  the  landscape." 

"  But  at  what  a  cost ! " 

There  was  a  strange  and  sudden  gravity  in  his  voice. 

"  Don't  you  like  autumn,  then  ?     I  think  it  glorious." 

"  It  is  that  indeed,  and  yet  it  is  so  painfully  suggestive  of 
change.  From  the  glowing  ripeness,  it  is  but  a  step  to  decay, 
dreariness." 

"  And  you  feel  this  dreariness,  you,  a  man,  who  can  mould 
events  to  his  liking  ? " 

"  Can  I  ? " 

He  gave  an  odd,  abrupt  smile,  and  there  was  a  far  look  in 
his  eyes  that  puzzled  her. 

"Perhaps  you  do  not  desire.     You  may  be  content." 
6 


122  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  You  are  laughing  at  me  ; "  for  he  was  quick  to  detect  the 
light  irony  of  her  tone. 

"  No,  I  am  not  laughing  at  you.  Look  at  this  picture,  Mr. 
Rutherford." 

He  glanced  in  the  direction  that  her  eyes  indicated.  A 
silvery  river,  winding  round,  and  on  the  opposite  shore  the 
gradual  slope  of  gray  and  purple  hills,  for  to-day  the  sun  was 
soft  and  hazy,  and  these  were  lying  in  the  shade.  Nearer  there 
was  an  emerald  tint  broken  by  clusters  of  late  wild  flowers, 
among  which  the  golden  rod  was  conspicuous.  A  low,  con 
tinuous  chirp  of  crickets  and  insects  throbbed  in  among  the 
pulses  of  the  river  that  gave  slow,  rhythmic  beats. 

He  studied  that  for  a  moment,  and  then  her  face,  which 
was  soft  and  dreamy  as  the  brooding  air. 

"  It  is  very  lovely." 

The  words  were  not  much,  but  the  tone  was  deep  and 
heartfelt.  She  understood  it  so  thoroughly.  Here  was  the 
kind  of  man  with  whom  life  would  be  a  perfect  enjoyment.  I 
believe  she  thought  to  herself  a  little  sadly  that  his  wife  would 
be  a  happy  woman.  Then  she  remembered  that  she  knew  ab 
solutely  nothing  of  his  circumstances  or  situation. 

She  flushed  and  changed  the  tenor  of  the  conversation. 
He  misunderstood  the  effort,  and  attempted  to  set  her  right. 
He  was  not  insensible  to  the  beauty  of  nature,  to  such  exquis 
ite  coloring  and  harmony. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  should  never  fancy  that  you  were.  I 
know  that  your  soul  is  neither  deaf  nor  blind." 

Then  she  lapsed  into  silence,  and  though  he  talked,  he 
could  not  rouse  her.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  bit  of  road 
before  them,  but  her  thoughts  were  upon  him.  Grave  by  na 
ture  and  capable  of  suffering  keenly,  but  with  a  deep,  unwea 
rying  tenderness  for  all  others  in  the  depths  of  pain  or  care. 
With  such  a  guide  one  might  grow  pure  and  strong — come  up 
to  the  grand  heights  of  life. 

"  But  it  is  quite  impossible,"  she  said  in  a  dry,  hard  tone. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  123 

"  What  is  ? "  and  he  looked  up  in  amaze,  startled  by  the 
sudden  and  incongruous  outburst. 

"The  subject  that  I  have  been  considering  for  the  last  five 
minutes." 

He  felt  a  trifle  displeased. 

"  You  forget,"  he  said,  "  that  I  really  know  nothing  about 
your  thoughts." 

She  gave  a  weird  little  laugh. 

"If  you  were  wise  you  could  guess  them  from  my  face." 

She  turned  toward  him  as  she  spoke.  He  only  saw  the 
dazzling  complexion,  the  deep  eyes,  which  were  as  mysterious 
as  an  unseen  world,  the  soft  tint  of  the  cheeks  and  the  sculp 
tured  features.  If  she  had  not  known  that  she  could  baffle 
him  she  would  not  have  dared.  There  are  some  secure  mo 
ments  in  all  lives. 

"  No,  I  cannot  guess,"  he  made  answer  after  a  long  pause. 

"Will  you  turn  this  corner,  then?  And — take  the  next 
street.  My  father  is  a  plain  man,  Mr.  Rutherford." 

She  uttered  the  last  almost  sharply. 

They  stopped  before  the  door.  He  fastened  the  horse  and 
she  gathered  her  flowing  skirts  as  she  picked  her  way  daintily 
up  the  path. 

Rachel  received  them  with  her  usual  severe  countenance. 
She  had  scarcely  changed  in  appearance,  and  still  sat  with  her 
work-basket  by  her  side.  That  would  always  be  indispen 
sable. 

Lucy's  message  being  of  a  rather  private  nature,  she  pres 
ently  withdrew  Rachel  from  the  room  and  delivered  it. 

"  This  Mr.  Rutherford  is  staying  at  your  house  ?  "  Rachel 
said. 

"Yes.  Warren  went  away  this  afternoon,  and  sent  him 
home  for  me  to  entertain,  so  I  thought  I'd  bring  him  to  call 
upon  you." 

"  And  Warren  approves  of  your  riding  round  with  any 
picked-up  acquaintance  !  What  do  you  know  of  this  man  ?  " 


124  Lucia:    Her  Problem. 

"  Nothing.  My  husband  brought  him  to  the  house — that 
is  sufficient  for  me." 

Lucy  Thorndike's  eyes  flashed,  and  her  words  had  an  in 
cisive  ring. 

"  I  never  was  taught  to  consider  it  respectable  for  married 
women  to  be  gallanted  here  and  there  by  strangers  !  " 

"  Rachel,  you  are  a  fool !  " 

Rachel  Garth  bit  her  thin  lips  and  turned  pale. 

"  Go  your  own  gait,"  she  said,  snapping  off  her  words. 
"  Warren  is  blind,  and  you  are  a  weak,  silly  coquette.  He  will 
rue  it  some  day  !  " 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  so  far  on  the  high  road  to  destruction  as  you 
think  ;"  and  she  gave  a  mocking  laugh.  "  And  I  am  going  to 
give  a  party.  Will  you  come  ?  it  is  to  be  on  my  birth-night." 

"  I  never  go  to  parties,  as  you  well  know,"  was  the  frigid 
answer.  "  But  I  have  warned  you  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  never  come  here  without  a  lecture  !  "  Lucy  return 
ed  hotly.  *'  But  you  are  an  ungracious  mentor,  Rachel." 

With  that  she  led  the  way  back  to  the  sitting-room,  and 
signified  to  her  attendant,  in  the  most  bewitching  manner,  that 
she  was  ready  to  depart. 

Rachel  glanced  after  them.  "  I'll  never  utter  another 
word  if  she  becomes  the  town  talk,"  she  said  angrily  to  her 
self. 

It  did  fret  her  to  see  Lucy  revelling  in  the  luxuries  of  life 
in  this  careless  manner.  And  what  was  worse,  Warren  Thorn- 
dike  looked  on  and  smiled. 

They  drove  for  some  time  in  silence.  Mr.  Rutherford's 
face  wore  a  perplexed  expression. 

'•  Shall  I  guess  your  thoughts  ? "  she  asked  gayly. 

"  If  you  can." 

"You  are  wondering  at  the  difference  between  my  sister 
and  myself." 

"  Yes."  He  turned  partly  round,  with  an  air  of  interest 
that  deepened  into  a  smile. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  "* 

"  We  are  sisters  on  my  father's  side  only." 

"  I  remarked  her  likeness  to  him." 

He  wanted  to  add  that  she  was  fortunate  in  not  possessing 
any  more  marked  resemblance. 

"  She  finds  a  work  to  do  in  this  world,  and  I  fancy  dreads 
the  old  couplet  about  idle  hands.  But  I  believe  the  lilies  of 
the  field  were  not  censured." 

"  There  is  such  a  thing  as  ennobling  labor,  Mrs.  Thorndike," 
he  said  gravely. 

"  But  I  like  idleness.  There  are  times  when  I  could  throw 
myself  on  a  mound  of  grass  like  that  yonder,  and  quaff  its  damp, 
delicious  perfume,  as  if  it  were  some  rare  wine.  Or,  stealing 
into  forest  depths,  fancy  myself  a  dryad  haunting  mysterious 
groves,  ready  to  take  shape  of  bird  or  bee  ;  or  of  a  zephyr,  to 
float  on  the  edge  of  a  rosy  cloud,  drenched  with  the  incense  of 
sweetest  flowers." 

Her  eyes  were  dangerously  luminous,  and  the  scarlet  lips 
seemed  to  throb  with  inward  passion,  refined  to  a  degree  of 
subtleness. 

Why  disturb  her,  sweet  heathen  that  she  was  !  Let  her  go 
on,  and  perhaps  never  awake  to  needs  that  might  be  madness. 

Rachel's  warning  had  the  opposite  effect  upon  her.  Since 
her  husband  had  asked  her  to  entertain  his  guest,  she  would 
do  it  in  a  royal  manner.  As  for  danger,  who  dreamed  of  such 
a  thing  !  It  was  a  figment  of-  that  fussy,  over-scrupulous 
brain. 

They  dined  alone,  and  afterward  she  sang  to  him.  Weird, 
sparkling  melodies,  that  were  crisp  and  piquant,  rather  than 
sentimental.  And  there  Mr.  Thorndike  dropped  in  upon  them 
with  his  commonplace. 

Her  vague  dissatisfaction  reached  a  crisis  that  evening.  A 
great  gulf  seemed  to  yawn  before  her,  cutting  her  off  from  her 
kind.  Not  human  kind — there  would  always  be  some  to  ad 
mire  and  applaud,  but  the  pure,  high  souls,  whose  clear,  stead 
fast  eyes  glanced  over  to  the  other  shore  where  they  were  to 


124  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"crowned  victors,  when  their  good  fight  had  been  made  in 
:this.  They  would  always  stand  aloof — as  this  man  had  hours 
ago.  She  was  not  worth  the  helping  hand  ! 

She  ran  up  stairs  presently,  tore  off  her  jewels,  and  dragged 
the  flowers  out  of  her  hair.  Oh,  if  she  could  go  back,  if  she 
could  leave  Warren  Thorndike  unwedded  !  She  had  sold  her 
self  soul  and  body  to  the  liberty  and  gold  that  looked  so  tempt 
ing.  She  knew  now  that  she  did  not  love  him,  never  had,  and 
that  life  was  a  hideous  mockery.  So  soon  had  she  come  to  the 
knowledge  that  Mr.  Rutherford  would  forever  have  hidden. 

Although  it  was  late,  she  sat  there  at  the  window  in  the 
floods  of  perfumed  moonlight,  for  the  falling  dew  had  rifled 
every  shrub  and  tree  of  sweetness.  Her  husband  had  gained 
his  point  and  was  coarsely  good-humored  ;  and  then  too,  she 
looked  very  lovely,  so  he  kissed  her  in  his  rough  manner. 

It  seemed  as  if  she  could  not  endure  it,  and  she  raised  her 
hand  to  push  him  away.  Every  pulse  of  her  body  revolted  at 
the  caress. 

Then  she  remembered  that  she  had  become  his  wife  of  her 
own  accord.  In  his  fashion  he  loved  her. 

"  You'll  be  moon-struck  sitting  here,"  he  said  with  a  laugh. 

"  And  lose  my  wits  ?  I  sometimes  think  that  I  have  lost 
them." 

She  shivered  visibly. 

"  Come,  it's  too  cold,"  and  he  closed  the  window.  "  Do 
you  know  how  late  it  is  ?  Rutherford's  won  at  last,  though  he's 
a  long-headed  fellow.  And  now  what  about  your  party  ?  When 
do  you  want  it?  I  saw  some  fellows  to-day  that  I'd  like  to 
ask." 

"  Warren,"  she  said,  solemnly,  laying  her  hand  on  her  hus 
band's  arm,  "  there's  no  danger  about  this  investment  ?  For  it 
seems  to  me  that  it  would  be  the  blackest  of  treachery  to  share 
your  hospitality  with  a  man  you  might  drag  to  ruin  months 
hence." 

"Ruin!"   he  exclaimed,  angrily.     "Who  thinks  of  that  ? 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  127 

Why,  it's  my  own  money  as  well  as  his.     Do  you  suppose  I'd 
be  fool  enough  to  burn  my  own  fingers  ? " 

No,  he  was  in  earnest,  and  believed  what  he  said.  And 
then  since  he  would  be  a  sharer  in  any  loss,  she  felt  safe. 

"  The  mine  is  to  be  opened  just  as  soon  as  matters  can  be 
brought  into  shape.  It  won't  pay  so  amazingly  the  first  year 
or  two,  but  there's  a  fortune  in  it.  We  have  the  capital  now, 
and  can  go  on  with  a  rush." 

"  Be  careful  !  "  she  entreated. 

"  Oh,  you  women  had  better  not  bother  your  brains  about 
such  things.  'Tend  to  your  laces  and  fol-lols." 

She  was  his  wife  !  "  'Till  death  do  us  part."  With  a  faint, 
sickening  sensation,  Lucy  Thorndike  turned  away  and  longed 
for  freedom  in  the  little  room  that  she  had  once  despised. 

The  young  feel  keenly  and  suffer  strongly,  but  they  are 
susceptible  to  so  many  influences.  Circumstances  bear  so 
strongly  upon  us  all.  What  might  in  solitude  become  a  mas 
ter  passion,  is  weakened  and  changed  by  the  pressing  cares 
of  life. 

The  following  morning,  Lucy  Thorndike  found  herself  a 
good  deal  interested  in  discussing  the  party.  Her  husband  felt 
inclined  to  make  a  very  splendid  affair  of  it,  and  asked  her  to 
write  out  a  list  of  invitations,  and  also  the  more  elegant  kinds 
of  refreshments. 

"  Two  weeks  from  Tuesday — last  night.  Don't  forget  a 
single  thing." 

They  stood  in  the  library,  and  he  was  waiting  for  Mr.  Ruth 
erford  to  come  down.  She  felt  a  trifle  ashamed  of  her  tempest 
of  last  night,  and  asked  herself  if  she  ought  not  to  be  thankful 
that  she  had  so  generous  and  indulgent  a  husband. 

"  Warren,  I  took  Mr.  Rutherford  out  driving,  yesterday. 
He  came  in  just  as  I  was  going  down  to  father's." 

"That  was  clever." 

"  And  Rachel  said — that  it  did  not  look  respectable  for  me 
to  be  driving  round  with  strange  men." 


128  Lucid:   Her  Problem. 

She  glanced  at  her  husband  very  earnestly,  but  no  fine 
sentiment  stole  into  his  face. 

"  What  did  you  say  ? " 

She  repeated  her  defence. 

"  Good !  You're  a  spunky  little  thing,  and  she's  a  fussy  old 
maid,  according  to  the  Kip  training." 

"  He  was  your  friend.  I  don't  even  know  to  this  moment 
whether  he  is  married  or  single." 

"  Oh,  he's  single — and  it  was  uncommon  kind  for  you  to 
give  Rachel  a  sight  at  him.  He's  a  nice  fellow,  too.  She 
needn't  fret  herself!  " 

That  was  all.  A  quick  elastic  tread  came  down  the  stairs, 
and  Paul  Rutherford  halted  in  the  hall,  a  nobleman  of  nature's 
stamp,  a  fine  pure  soul.  She  tried  not  to  contrast  them.  In 
deed,  she  turned  rather  coldly  away  from  some  remark  he  made. 

She  was  soon  deeply  engrossed  in  party  arrangements. 
Her  list  of  guests  was  made  out,  and  then  she  bethought  her 
self  of  the  delicacies  that  might  grace  her  table. 

Yet  she  was  startled  when  the  two  came  in  to  lunch,  to 
hear  Mr.  Rutherford  announce  his  departure. 

"  You'll  be  back  in  a  fortnight,  Rutherford  !  We're  going 
to  have  a  sort  of  blow-out." 

Lucy  winced  a  little  at  this  inelegant  announcement. 

"  We  expect  to  entertain  a  little  company  on  the  evening 
of  the  twenty-third,"  she  said  quietly.  We  shall  be  most  glad 
to  see  you." 

"  Thank  you.  I  have  some  business  in  Baltimore  ;  but  if 
it  is  possible,  I  shall  be  happy  to  come." 

Their  good-byes  were  quietly  said. 

Lucy  Thorndike  fell  into  a  dreamy  mood  afterward. 
"  It  would  be  just  as  well  if  I  never  saw  him  again,"  she 
thought.     "  He  represents  a  class  and  a  type  beyond  my  reach. 
To  awake  to  such  a  life  and  find  myself  chained  here,  would  be 
madness  1  " 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  129 


CHAPTER  XII. 

BY    NIGHT. 

IT  was  the  night  of  the  party,  and  the  Thorndike  mansion 
was  ablaze  with  light.  The  evening  air  was  crisp  and  cool, 
but  not  damp,  and  there  being  no  moon,  the  winding  drive  was 
ornamented  with  colored  lanterns,  which  lent  a  weird  enchant 
ment.  The  fountain  in  the  midst  of  the  lawn  sent  up  jets  in 
rainbow  hues  that  returned  in  soft  spray  of  gold,  crimson  and 
purple. 

The  drawing-room  windows  opened  to  the  floor,  so  the  or 
chestra  was  stationed  on  the  balcony.  The  room  itself  was  a 
palace  of  beauty  with  its  lights  and  flowers.  Opposite,  the  li 
brary  had  been  arranged  for  the  card-players,  while  the  spa 
cious  dining-room  at  the  back  was  necessarily  closed. 

The  second  floor  was  devoted  to  dressing  apartments.  An 
Abigail  of  the  most  elegant  type  waited  upon  the  ladies,  and 
the  gentlemen  were  by  no  means  neglected. 

Warren  Thornclike  had  given  this  party  with  a  purpose  of  his 
own.  He  was  not  only  courting  popularity  for  himself,  but  he 
wanted  to  draw  within  his  circle  men  of  means  and  influence. 
He  wanted  money  to  develope  his  schemes,  for  he  thought  he 
saw  a  very  brilliant  future.  Before  he  had  passed  the  prime  of 
life  he  meant  to  be  a  millionaire.  He  believed  that  he  had  the 
energy  and  foresight  to  compass  this. 

So  he  had  spared  no  expense.     He  might  grumble  a  little 
when  the  bills  came  in,  as  he  was  not  above  that  infirmity  of 
husband- nature,  but  he  would  have  nothing  stinted  now. 
6* 


130  Lucia  :  Her  Problem. 

Neither  had  Mrs.  Thorndike  economized  personally.  Her 
pale-blue  silk  was  rich  and  soft,  her  point  lace  of  the  most  ex 
quisite  quality,  and  her  diamonds  were  the  envy  of  Dedham. 
She  moved  a  miniature  queen  in  this  charmed  circle,  and  was 
startlingly  beautiful.  Mrs.  Wilder  had  been  asked  for  a  week, 
and  as  she  always  liked  full  scope  for  her  executive  abilities, 
Mrs.  Thorndike  left  much  of  the  management  to  her.  She 
had  only  to  smile  and  be  enchanting. 

She  had  been  introduced  to  one  and  another  until  her  brain 
seemed  in  hopeless  confusion.  And  yet  one  face  that  she  had 
rather  longed  for  and  expected  was  not  there.  The  feeling 
was  hardly  active  enough  to  be  called  disappointment,  still  she 
fancied  that  he  would  enjoy  this  gay  scene  with  its  fair  women  ; 
and  certainly  the  array  of  masculines  was  not  to  be  despised. 

Then  came  another,  "  Mr.  Marchmont,  Mrs.  Thorndike." 

She  would  not  be  likely  to  forget  this  man  or  confuse  his 
name  with  the  others.  At  the  first  glance  she  thought  him  the 
handsomest  man  that  she  had  ever  met.  Many  another  wo 
man  had  reached  the  same  decision  as  rapidly. 

If  I  said  he  was  tall,  with  a  fine  figure,  purplish  black  hair 
and  beard,  a  clear,  but  nther  pale  complexion,  features  that 
might  have  been  chiselled  out  of  marble,  indeed  all  that  goes  to 
make  up  manly  beauty,  you  would  still  have  an  indistinct  idea 
of  him. 

When  you  came  to  examine  him  critically,  you  found  some 
rather  unpleasant  combinations.  The  forehead  was  narrow  at 
the  temples,  the  lips  were  thin,  though  of  a  brilliant  ^carlet, 
and  wore  a  smile  that  the  least  change  made  sardonic  or  se 
raphic  as  his  mood  might  be.  His  eyes  were  quite  light,  a 
kind  of  steely  color,  and  gleaming  through  the  long,  black  lash 
es  gave  them  a  most  peculiar  expression  and  power.  They 
were  merciless,  and  I  was  about  to  say  treacherous,  and  yet 
they  could  soften  to  the  most  bewitching  tenderness.  He  un 
derstood  his  power — heaven  knows  he  had  tried  it  often 
enough. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  131 

Lucy  Thorndike  gave  him  a  careless  glance — it  was  not 
her  habit  to  inspect  strangers  minutely.  Her  indifference 
piqued  him,  and  then  he  smiled  when  she  looked  again. 

"  Mrs.  Thorndike,"  he  said,  "  you  seem  to  have  a  palace 
of  enchantment  here." 

For  answer  she  gave  her  clear,  low  laugh 

"  You  are  used  to  compliments,  and  perhaps  flatter}',  for 
there  is  no  lack  of  that  coin.  Excuse  me  for  making  such  a 
commonplace  remark,  I  dare  say  you  have  heard  it  dozens  of 
times  already." 

"  No,  Mr.  Marchmont,  no  one  has  made  that  particular 
comparison.  I  am  not  sure  but  that  I  should  delight  to  have 
it  true." 

"  And  the  power  in  your  hands  ? " 

"  In  my  hands,  of  course." 

She  made  a  very  charming  inclination  of  the  head ;  and 
standing  in  the  wake  of  the  chandelier  her  hair  seemed  to  be 
transmuted  to  waves  of  molten  gold,  and  there  were  soft,  wan 
dering  lights  in  her  eyes. 

"  Well,"  he  went  on  with  gay  good  nature — "  how  would 
you  rule  ? " 

"Oh,  mercifully,  I  think,"  in  a  slow,  vague  tone.  "I 
should  want  every  one  to  be  happy." 

"  In  your  way  ?  For  I  observe  that  seems  to  be  the  ideal 
of  all  governments." 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  to  be  the  true  method,"  was  her 
prompt  answer. 

"  What  then  ? " 

"Each  one  in  his  own  way." 

"  Mrs.  Thorndike  you  are  Utopian,  impracticable — in  short, 
a  woman." 

He  uttered  this  in  a  soft,  musical  tone,  as  if  it  were  a  com 
pliment. 

"  Well,  that  does  not  distress  me." 


132  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

There  was  so  much  piquancy  in  her  manner  that  he  felt 
charmed  and  lured  on. 

"  What  is  your  idea  of  happiness  ?  " 

"  I  confess  I  hardly  know." 

"  Have  you  not  attained  it  ? " 

This  was  a  bold  question.  A  woman  better  versed  in  the 
ways  of  the  world  would  not  have  answered  it  frankly. 

"  I  do  not  think  I  have,"  she  said  slowly.  "  I  wonder  if 
it  is  always  so  as  we  go  on  with  life.  Three  years  ago  a  very 
little  would  have  satisfied  me.  I  do  not  want  you  to  fancy 
that  I  am  morbid  or  miserable  now,  far  from  it.  I  have  a  very 
thorough  enjoyment  of  life,  and — "  a  little  proudly — "a  great 
deal  to  enjoy.  But  it  puzzles  me  why  one  delight  should 
always  suggest  a  keener  and  higher." 

"  That  is  one  of  the  mysteries  of  human  nature." 

"  And  yet  that  one  can  feel  it  without  being  wretched." 

"  Hope  was  at  the  bottom  of  the  box,  you  know,"  and  he 
gave  one  of  his  peculiar,  mystical  smiles. 

"  Then  you  think  we  unconsciously  hope  for  any  lost  or 
missing  joy  ? " 

She  was  not  looking  at  him  and  he  saw  it.  A  brief  mood 
of  thought  was  passing  over  her,  as  a  light  cloud  drifts  athwart 
the  summer  sky.  Did  she  hold  any  dim  dream  in  her  heart  ? 

"  A  peculiar  and  beautiful  woman,"  he  mused,  "  with  the 
heart  of  sixteen.  I  shall  not  be  utterly  wrecked  on  this  narrow 
and  forlorn  coast." 

"  I  know  we  do.  It  is  right  that  we  should  ;  and  who  can 
blame  us  if  we  take  every  method  to  compass  it.  Mrs.  Thorn- 
dike  " — in  a  peculiarly  pleading  tone — "  I  wish  I  dared  ask 
you  to  go  out  to  the  fountain.  This  view  is  most  tantalizing. 
But  I  suppose  it  would  be  too  great  a  favor." 

There  was  such  a  longing  loo*  in  his  eyes  that  she  smiled. 

"  I  dare  say  no  one  would  miss  me  for  a  few  moments  ;  as 
all  the  guests  must  have  arrived.  Were  you  very  late,  or  was 
it  simply  that  I  had  not  chanced  to  see  you  before." 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  133 

"  I  was  very  late.  Indeed,  I  considered  some  time  whether 
I  had  better  venture  or  not — being  a  stranger." 

"  Have  you  seen  much  of  Dedham  ? " 

"  No.  I  was  here  a  month  ago  for  a  few  hours,  and  came 
in  again  yesterday.  I  owe  this  pleasure  to  the  kindness  of 
Mr.  Thorndike.  But  it  is  likely  to  be  my  home  for  the  winter, 
at  least." 

In  the  mean  while  they  had  gone  down  the  steps.  The 
fountain  was  not  far  distant.  Some  curious  spell  had  urged 
him  to  detach  her  from  the  rest — perhaps  he  fancied  that  he 
could  judge  her  more  correctly. 

The  great  waves  of  music  surged  upon  the  night  air,  almost 
drowning  out  the  soft,  murmurous  tones  of  the  falling  spray. 
The  beautiful  blending  of  lights  added  to  the  picturesque  scene. 
So  wayward  and  half  fascinated  was  her  mood  that  she  almost 
wished  the  crowd  were  gone,  and  he  and  she  might  linger  there 
undisturbed  by  any  consciousness  of  duties. 

He  spoke  presently.  He  had  a  subtle  and  dangerous  gift  of 
language — and  now  his  thoughts  flowed  in  a  channel  of  exquisite 
imagery.  The  light,  half  scoffing  tone  had  vanished,  and  she 
listened  with  the  curious  sensation  of  being  charmed,  if  such  a 
thing  were  possible. 

She  was  pursuing  a  train  of  reflection  while  her  brain  ap 
peared  to  him  simply  receptive. 

Why  should  she  not  make  friends  with  some  of  these  enter 
taining  and  agreeable  men  ?  No  one  questioned  Mrs.  Glen- 
field's  right  so  to  do. 

The  weird  notes  of  the  Lava  Strome  floated  down  to  them, 
thrilling  the  soft  air.  She  turned.  Music  like'this  swayed  her 
powerfully. 

"  Oh,  "  he  exclaimed,"  you  waltz.  One  would  know  it 
from  your  slender,  swaying  figure — and  such  eyes.  " 

"  And  what  else  ?  " 

"  The  rest  will  keep.  If  I  told  you  too  much  at  a  time, 
you  would  soon  tire  of  me.  Let  us  go  back  to  the  dancers." 


134  Lucia:  Ihr  Problem. 

He  meant  that  she  should  waltz  with  him  before  the  lights 
were  out,  but  he  said  nothing  now.  Quadrilles  he  set  down  as 
stupid,  and  despised  them. 

It  was  nearly  eleven  then,  and  the  dancing  continued  for 
the  next  hour,  when  supper  was  announced.  Mrs.  Thorndike 
had  been  wonderfully  brilliant  and  fascinating.  Now  and  then 
the  waves  surged  round  bringing  a  face  with  a  puzzling  smile 
and  eyes  deeply  intent  upon  success. 

"  For  it  will  quite  enliven  a  winter  in  this  dreary  place," 
he  thought  between  the  pauses  of  talk  and  music. 

The  supper-room  lost  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  rest 
of  the  house.  As  for  the  table,  it  seemed  a  shining  mass  of 
glass  and  silver — while  fragrant  flowers  blossomed  and  drooped 
from  dainty  or  antique  vases.  Here  a  mound  of  purple  grapes, 
with  the  bloom  still  upon  them,  as  if  they  were  dreaming  through 
the  long  summer  afternoon  under  golden  suns,  with  festoons  of 
ivy  and  clustering  roses,  to  make  an  agreeable  contrast.  There 
the  large  oval  Malaga,  with  their  pale  sea-green  tint,  lighted  up 
with  sprays  of  scarlet  flowers ;  fruits  from  tropical  shores,  and 
rare  wines  sparkling  beyond  on  the  sideboard.  Captious  in 
deed  must  be  the  guest  who  could  not  find  some  pleasure. 

They  ate  and  drank,  talked  and  laughed.  Mr.  Thorndike 
grew  rather  boisterous,  enjoyment  was  quite  apt  to  bubble 
over  the  brim  with  the  man,  but  he  was  not  alone.  Here  and 
there  some  clear,  fine  brain,  retained  its  cool  self-possession. 
"Lucy  Thorndike  noted  them  with  an  eye  that  seemed  alive  to 
any  defect,  or  any  grace.  Through  it  all  Mr.  Marchmont  pre 
served  his  high-bred  demeanor — and  he  in  turn,  watched  her. 

"  What  a  dolt  that  Thorndike  is  !  Gad  !  if  a  man  could  be 
in  his  position  !  " 

He  washed  the  thought  down  with  a  sip  of  sparkling  wine, 
^nd  then  another — "  How  had  that  lovely  girl  come  to  marry 
him  ? " 

Some  of  the  guests  went  away  soon  nfterward.  Mr.  Glen- 
field  lavghingly  declared,  after  his  wife  had  insisted  upon  de- 


Lucia:   Her  Problem:  135 

parture,  that  it  was  very  gay  for  sober  people  like  themselves, 
but  he  had  no  warning  voice  to  raise. 

The  place  was  more  comfortable  after  the  thinning  out. 
The  dancing  went  on,  and  Lucy,  who  had  scarcely  participa 
ted  in  it  during  the  earlier  part  of  the  evening,  as  her  time  and 
attention  had  been  devoted  to  her  guests,  gave  herself  up  to 
the  alluring  enjoyment.  It  was  a  passion  with  her — pure, 
though  entrancing. 

The  lights,  the  perfumed  air,  the  rhythmic  pulses  that  blend 
ed  "  viol,  flute,  and  bassoon,"  seemed  actual  voices  to  her  as 
with  half-closed  eyes  she  floated  dreamily  from  wave  to  wave. 
Her  first  experiences  of  it  had  been  almost  overwhelming,  but 
since  then  a  subtle  refinement  had  set  in,  and  now  she  had 
grown  exclusive. 

Mr.  Thorndike  never  put  any  check  upon  this  pastime. 
He  had  no  fine  sentiment  to  be  pained — and  as  yet  he  had 
not  reached  the  estate  of  jealousy.  So  Mr.  Marchmont  was 
not  haunted  by  any  fierce,  glaring  eyes — and  if  he  had  been,  it 
would  have  been  characteristic  of  the  man  to  go  on  just  the 
same.  In  fact,  obstacles  always  gave  a  vim  to  success. 

At  last  the  good-nights  were  said.  Some  of  the  faces  look 
ed  a  little  weary,  flowers  were  faded,  and  dresses  limp ;  but  it 
had  proved  delightful,  every  one  declared.  Most  of  the  wo 
men  envied  Lucy  Thorndike,  for  there  had  never  been  so  el 
egant  an  entertainment  in  Dedham. 

Lucy  had  her  room  darkened,  and  stayed  in  bed  until  noon 
of  the  next  day.  By  that  time  the  debris  had  been  clear 
ed  away.  She  was  fresh  and  radiant,  and  yet  she  listened  to 
her  husband's  gratulations  that  evening  at  dinner  with  an  ab 
sent  air.  Of  course  it  had  been  a  crush  and  a  success,  and 
she  wanted  to  hear  no  more  about  it  through  this  coarse  chan 
nel. 

Mrs.  Wilder  finished  her  visit  and  went  away.  There  were 
the  usual  calls,  drives,  and  small  breaks  to  wear  away  the 
days.  A  vague  feeling  of  unrest  began  to  steal  over  her  again, 


136  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

a  perplexing  and  tormenting  desire  for  something  she  had  not. 
What  was  it  ? 

Mr.  Rutherford  came  in  town  and  missed  her  by  a  few  mo 
ments.  She  felt  deeply  disappointed. 

"  And  yet  what  does  it  matter? "  she  thought  to  herself,  un 
consciously  contrasting  him  with  Vaughan  Marchmont,  "  It 
is  hardly  likely  that  the  friendship  would  raise  itself  above  the 
level  of  commonplace." 

What  was  there  in  the  mystical  land  beyond  that  presented 
such  alluring  glimpses  of  a  higher  life  than  this  she  was  lead 
ing?  But  how  should  she  aspire  to  it? 

Perhaps  it  was  not  strange  that  Lucy  Thorndike  threw  her 
self  into  society  with  a  greater  zest  than  ever.  It  was  very 
agreeable  and  attractive  this  season,  beginning  with  her  party. 
The  men  with  whom  Mr.  Thorndike  surrounded  himself  were 
refined,  accustomed  to  society,  and  to  a  wider  range  of  thought 
and  conversation  than  the  ordinary  residents  of  Dedham. 
There  was  a  continual  coming  and  .going,  orders  for  dainty 
lunches  or  more  pretentious  dinners.  Lucy  graced  these  in  a 
very  charming  fashion.  Without  understanding  there  might 
be  any  possible  danger,  her  husband  approved,  and  that  was 
all  which  seemed  necessary  for  her. 

Of  course  there  were  not  wanting  jealous  and  grudging  souls 
to  cavil  at  her  course.  Rachel  groaned  in  secret  over  the  dis 
sipation,  perhaps  the  most  honest  of  them  all. 

As  for  Warren  Thorndike,  he  fancied  himself  on  the  high 
road  to  a  most  brilliant  success.  His  schemes  were  working 
well.  Not  only  that,  but  he  would  be  an  actual  benefactor  to  his 
native  town.  He  had  hosts  of  improvements  in  his  brain  against 
the  time  when  gold  began  to  pour  a  steady  stream  into  his 
coffers. 

Mr.  Marchmont  was  well  pleased  to  be  a  welcome  guest  at 
the  Thorndikes'.  He  took  the  gentleman  at  a  very  true  esti 
mate,  if  it  was  not  exactly  complimentary.  It  did  little  harm, 
since  he  proposed  to  keep  it  to  himself.  Mrs.  Thorndike  he 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  137 

admired  after  the  fashion  of  a  man  of  the  world.  She  was  so 
fresh  and  piquant,  so  frank  and  innocent  withal.  He  knew 
that  she  did  not  even  understand  herself,  so  there  would  be  lit 
tle  fear  of  her  penetrating  his  subtler  plans. 

Not  that  he  meditated  any  wrong  or  harm  that  would  low 
er  her  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  He  esteemed  himself  a  con 
scientious  man.  He  had  also  learned  by  experience  that  wo 
men  were  not  as  tender  of  heart  as  poets  suppose,  and  some 
who  had  come  under  his  observations  were  quite  ready  for  a 
small  flirtation.  Girls  might  become  too  warmly  interested, 
but  a  married  woman  was  altogether  safe.  Such  a  one  had  a 
position  to  maintain,  and  as  he  was  never  likely  to  persuade  a 
women  to  throw  away  "  name  and  fame  and  all  "  for  his  sake, 
his  friendships  were  always  perfectly  respectable. 

Lucy  Thorndike  was  pleased  with  his  delicate  attentions. 
She  was  not  sure,  after  a  month's  acquaintance,  but  that  she 
liked  him  better  than  Mr.  Rutherford.  Mr.  Marchmont  gave 
her  no  depressing  idea  of  herself.  She  liked  to  be  apprecia 
ted.  There  was  something  exhilarating  in  a  talk  with  him, 
and  yet  she  could  rarely  remember  any  thing  that  he  had 
said.  But  one  evening  they  drifted  to  the  verge  of  dangerous 
ground. 

They  had  fallen  into  a  careless  discussion  of  personal  har 
mony  as  affecting  love  and  friendship. 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  ever  had  a  real  friend,"  she  said  slow 
ly.  "  Is  it  because  I  am  incapable  of  attracting  one  ?  " 

She  glanced  at  him  out  of  deep,  restless  eyes.  She  had 
unconsciously  taken  up  the  habit  of  asking  him  direct  questions 
without  much  thought  as  to  consequences. 

He  smiled  curiously.  The  lights  burning  low  in  their 
ground  globes  gave  her  a  peculiar  charm.  He  viewed  her 
critically,  as  a  rare  bird  or  plant  would  have  been  inspected 
by  some. 

"  I  think  you  have  never  tried." 

"  Mr.  Marchmont,  how  do  people  try  ? " 


138  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

Her  eyes  were  luminous  with  expectation,  and  a  half  smile, 
wayward  and  wandering,  crossed  her  lips. 

"  As  if  all  women  did  not  know  !  " 

"  They  do  not.  I  have  a  fancy  that  some  women  always 
stand  alone." 

"  Because  they  are  cold  and  self-centred.  And  that  is  an 
anomaly.  They  should  be  tender,  clinging." 

"  And  you  believe  all  that  soft  nonsense  about  women,"  she 
laughed. 

"  Is  it  nonsense  ?  It  seems  to  me  that  they  are  peculiarly 
susceptible  to  the  finer  emotions,  such  as  answer  the  call  of 
love  and  friendship.  She  who  is  not,  would  be  a  monstrosity." 

Lucy  Thorndike  smiled  in  her  abstracted  way. 

"  Mr.  Marchmont,"  she  said  suddenly,  "  I  heard  you  dis 
secting  character  with  a  great  deal  of  nicety  at  Mrs.  McLaren's. 
You  were  describing  all  the  qualities  that  made  a  perfect  equi 
poise.  Can  you  do  that  with  characters  not  properly  or  cor 
rectly  balanced  ? " 

"  Why  ? "  with  a  quick  look,  like  a  flash  from  his  light  eyes. 

"  I  was  thinking  as  I  listened  to  you  that  evening,  what  a 
pleasure  it  would  be  to  hear  one's  self  mapped  out  in  so  con 
cise  a  -manner.  Take  me  for  a  subject,  Mr.  Marchmont." 

He  might  have  fancied  her  laughing  at  him,  but  for  her 
pleading  tone  and  the  warm  color  in  her  cheek. 

"  You  understand  your  own  capabilities  too  well,"  he  said 
evasively. 

"No,  I  do  not ; "  and  now  she  was  grave.  "  Did  you  never 
wish  that  you  could  go  out  of  your  own  body  for  a  brief  while 
and  look  at  it  from  some  unconscious  stand-point  while  it  talk 
ed  and  went  through  with  its  brief  play,  peering  down  into  its 
soul ? " 

A  strange  earnestness  came  into  her  eyes,  and  her  scarlet 
lip  seemed  to  quiver. 

He  was  not  quite  sure  that  he  cared  to  inspect  his  own  mo 
tives  with  such  critical  precision,  so  he  said  carelessly — 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  139 

"You  are  in  a  strange  mood  to  night." 

"  Then  I  can  hardly  fail  to  become  a  good  subject.  Begin. 
What  are  my  strongest  characteristics  ? " 

"  Love  of  enjoyment  is  one,"  he  said  slowly,  and  then 
paused. 

"  Right,"  she  answered,  with  a  daintily-flavored  laugh. 
*'  But,  Mr.  Marchmont,  there  ought  to  be  something  higher  than 
that  to  existence." 

With  that  sentence  her  face  became  grave  again. 

"  After  all,"  he  said  in  his  low,  musical  tone,  "  enjoyment 
is  the  great  aim  of  every  life.  It  is  as  various  as  human  nature. 
There  have  always  been  ascetics  who  mortified  the  flesh  to 
make  martyrs  of  themselves,  but  what  real  good  did  they  ac 
complish  for  the  world  at  large  ?  " 

"  Yet  if  they  loved  pleasure  it  was  heroic  in  them." 

"  But  I  fancy  they  did  not  care  for  it,  and  did  love  notoriety. 
That  you  know  is  heaven  to  some  souls." 

No,  these  were  not  her  heroes. 

"  But  it  seems  frivolous  to  waste  days  upon  mere  pleasure," 
she  said. 

"  Does  it  ? "  and  a  faint  flush  mounted  to  his  brow.  "  In 
my  experience  I  have  found  that  those  souls  quick  to  take  in  a 
scent  or  sound,  the  flash  of  a  bird,  or  the  ripple  of  a  wave,  are 
the  ones  who  minister  delicately  to  the  happiness  of  others. 
They  are  not  blind  nor  dumb,  neither  are  they  utterly  wrapped 
in  self.  And  is  not  this  a  trifling  good  to  say  the  least  ?  Shall 
it  be  despised  ? " 

She  paused  in  her  iapid  yet  aimless  thought.  Perhaps  her 
life  was  not  altogether  wasted. 

"  And  what  then  ? "  she  asked  presently,  going  back  to  the 
old,  gay  mood. 

"  You  have  been  formed  for  enjoyment,  for  friendship,  for 
love." 

He  repeated  each  clause  in  a  slow,  distinct  voice,  and  with 
a  peculiar  emphasis. 


140  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  Yes,  I  know  about  the  last,"  she  said  impatiently,  beating 
imaginary  time  with  her  restless  foot  upon  the  carpet.  "  Tell 
me  what  I  must  do  to  inspire  friendship  ? " 

He  looked  steadfastly  at  her  for  a  moment.  Did  she  be 
lieve  that  she  truly  understood  any  thing  of  love  ?  Ah,  she 
could  be  shown  depths  and  heights  which  she  had  never  imag 
ined  !  A  warm,  thrilling  current  started  in  his  mind,  and  for 
an  instant  he  almost  wished  the  power  to  teach  her  were  in 
deed  his. 

"  You  don't  answer  me,"  she  went  on  with  childish  petu 
lance. 

4<  I  cannot  now,"  he  returned  abruptly.  "  And  do  you  know 
how  late  it  is?  Ah,  you  need  not  ask  any  questions — I  think 
you  understand  the  fatal  syren  charm  of  beguiling  the  way 
farer." 

He  rose  and  came  nearer,  but  there  was  a  strange  haughti 
ness  in  her  smile  and  her  next  movement,  so  he  said  his  good 
night  courteously,  not  being  pressed  to  stay,  as  was  sometimes 
her  eager  wont. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  141 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE   TREE   OF    KNOWLEDGE. 

LUCY  THORNDIKE  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  room 
where  Vaughan  Marchmont  had  left  her.  Her  cheeks 
were  flushed  with  a  brilliant  carmine,  her  lips  slightly  apart, 
her  eyes  full  of  wavering  lights.  She  was  both  annoyed  and 
pleased.  Her  sense  of  refinement  and  honor,  which  was  in 
nately  high  after  all,  had  been  touched,  wounded.  And  yet  it 
was  partially  soothed  by  the  half  acknowledgment  he  had  made 
of  her  power. 

Her  husband  came  up  the  steps  with  a  clatter.  She  drew 
her  straight  brows  into  a  little  frown. 

A  ruddy,  healthy  man,  whose  mental  status  would  al 
ways  be  lamentably  less  in  the  scale  than  the  physical.  His 
hands  were  large  and  coarse,  his  motions  clumsy  in  spite  of 
the  briskness.  Every  day  this  knowledge  seemed  to  grow 
upon  her. 

"  I  met  Marchmont  down  the  street,"  he  said. 

"Well?"  She  stood  as  if  she  were  going  to  receive 
sentence. 

He  laughed  loudly. 

"  You  didn't  quarrel  with  him  I  hope  ?  You  look  as  if  you 
were  equal  to  any  thing." 

She  softened  a  trifle,  and  made  answer — 

"  No,  he  did  not  give  me  any  cause." 

"Don't  pick  one  then." 


142  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"Warren,"  she  asked,  "how  much  do  you  care  for  me? 
Half  as  much  as  for  your  schemes  and  your  gold  ? " 

He  glanced  at  her  in  astonishment,  as  if  he  was  not  quite 
sure  of  her  being  in  a  right  mind. 

"Why,  you  have  your  share  of  the  money,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  you  have  been  very  kind  to  me,  very  kind.  I  have 
had  a  happy  life  here  contrasted  with  the  old  one,  but  I  feel 
sometimes  as  if  I  would  like  to  make  it  better.  And  if  any 
one  would  help  me — " 

There  was  a  vague,  puzzled  look  in  her  eyes  that- he  did 
not  understand. 

"  You  took  up  the  Glenfields  and  their  church-going  ways,  but 
that  did  not  satisfy  you,"  he  said  not  unkindly,  yet  in  a  straight 
forward  manner,  as  if  it  was  folly  to  clothe  facts  in  soft  raiment. 

"  No,  that  did  not  satisfy  me,"  in  a  thoughtful  tone,  and 
glancing  to  the  far  corners  of  the  room. 

She  was  so  used  to  his  plain  manner  of  talking  that  it 
seldom  gave  her  any  pain,  even  if  she  did  sometimes  long  for 
a  little  more  tenderness. 

"  Are  you  not  happy  ? "  he  asked,  thrusting  both  hands 
deeply  in  his  pockets,  and  lounging  down  until  one  shoulder 
touched  the  mantel. 

"  Yes ;  "  she  answered,  sharply,  though  with  a  little  twinge 
of  conscience.  She  could  not  confess  as  freely  to  him  as  she 
had  to  others,  and  her  cheek  flushed  at  the  thought.  But  it 
appeared  blackest  ingratitude  to  find  any  fault  with  what  he  gave 
— with  what  she  had  once  been  so  happy  to  take. 

Warren  Thorndike  glanced  at  his  wife  in  dull  amazement 
Every  now  and  then  she  broke  out  into  some  wild  dream  quite 
beyond  his  comprehension.  It  seemed  to  him  that  she  was 
not  altogether  a  comfortable  woman  to  live  with  in  spite  of  her 
beauty  and  grace  and  winsome  ways. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  kind  of  blunt  good 
nature.  "A  new  shawl,  or  a  silk  gown,  or  laces  and  fol-cle- 
rols  ?  How  much  money  will  it  take  ?  " 


Lucia :   Her   Problem.  143 

He  pulled  out  his  wallet  as  if  he  would  settle  it  then  and 
there,  and  get  it  out  of  his  mind. 

She  crossed  over  to  him  and  laid  her  soft,  white  hand  upon 
his  shoulder.  Her  eyes  were  bathed  in  a  kind  of  appealing 
tenderness,  and  her  voice  was  almost  hysterical  as  she  said — 

"  I  don't  want  money,  Warren.  I  want  a  love  that  can 
come  near  to  me  in  sad  hours  or  joyous  ones  ;  that  can  awake 
better  and  loftier  motives  than  any  I  have  ever  had,  that  will 
give  an  impetus  to  life,  and  make  me  thankful  every  day  that 
I  am  here." 

"  Oh,"  he  returned,  half  laughingly,  "  you  get  that  out  of 
novels.  I'm  sure  if  I  hadn't  liked  you,  I  should  not  have 
asked  you  to  marry  me." 

"  No,"  and  a  faint,  sad  smile  crossed  her  lips.     "  I  am  fool 
ish,  that  is  all." 
•, 

But  she  turned  away  cold  and  heavy  at  heart.  Most  plainly 
she  saw  the  wide  gulf  between  them — the  gulf  that  could  never 
be  bridged  over.  Had  her  early  fancy  invested  him  with  qual 
ities  that  he  did  not  possess?  She  had  seen  so  few  men  at  that 
period.  It  seemed  as  if  she  Had  been  set  in  the  wrong  place 
in  life  ;  and  now  there  was  no  getting  out  of  it 

She  choked  down  a  bitter,  gasping  breath  that  might  have 
been  a  cry  of  despair,  had  she  allowed  it  a  voice.  And  then 
she  tried  to  go  back  to  the  old  belief.  Why  should  she  worry 
herself  about  all  these  things  ?  Other  women  did  not !  Mrs. 
Glenfield  accepted  all  Ihe  homage  that  was  laid  at  her  shrine 
with  an  air  of  perfect  complacency.  She  made  some  distinc 
tions  to  be  sure — she  did  not  dance  ;  but  then  she  walked  with 
other  gentlemen,  talked  and  allowed  herself  to  be  complimented 
— and  was  really  the  centre  of  attraction  to  the  young  men  of 
the  Shiloah  congregation.  She  loved  her  husband,  and  it  was 
no  wonder  that  she  was  proud  of  him — that  was  her  safeguard, 
perhaps. 

Mrs.  McLaren  was  a  happy  wife,  too — but  if  the  whole 
truth  were  admitted,  she  did  flirt  pretty  deeply  sometimes. 


144  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

There  was  no  sentiment  in  it  with  her,  but  just  a  love  of  pleas 
ure  and  excitement.  She  occasionally  boasted  of  her  petty 
triumphs ;  indeed,  she  fancied  that  if  she  were  a  widow,  there 
would  be  strifes,  heart-burnings,  and  even  duels. 

But  then  Mrs.  McLaren  was  very  attractive — had  been  to 
Europe,  could  talk  of  art,  music,  and  great  people  with  perfect 
readiness  and  a  certain  kind  of  familiarity  that  quite  extin 
guished  Lucy's  more  moderate  pretensions. 

Why  not  enjoy  the  pleasures  that  other  women  found  so 
fascinating  ?  Of  what  avail  was  this  unquiet  longing  ?  Her 
husband  would  never  help  her  to  any  higher  sphere ;  indeed, 
she  had  an  awful  presentiment  that  every  step  in  this  direction 
took  her  farther  away  from  him. 

The  result  of  her  meditations  was  a  deeper  plunge  into  gay- 
ety.  She  little  fancied  that  Vaughan  Marchmont,  made  more 
careful  by  his  slight  rebuff,  was  watching  h^r  with  a  curious 
intensity.  He  understood  every  phase  of  womanhood,  save  the 
highest  and  best.  I  do  not  mean  that  he  placed  them  on  any 
degrading  level,  he  simply  had  no  faith  in  the  permanency  of 
any  passion  or  affection.  If  it  had  been  true  for  a  lifetime,  it 
was  because  it  had  encountered  no  sufficiently  strong  tempta 
tion. 

*  And  so  at  thirty  he  looked  at  matrimony  as  a  far  distant 
event.  -When  he  began  to  grow  old  and  wearied  with  excite-* 
ments,  he  would  marry  some  woman  with  fortune,  position  and 
beauty.  This  great,  stupid  Thorndike  had  done  much  the  same 
thing.  Then  he  would  settle  down  into  a  steady-going  life ; 
but  the  vision  had  few  charms  for  him  now.  In  the  mean 
while  he  would  now  and  then  take  a  sip  out  of  some  other  over 
flowing  cup. 

He  paid  Mrs.  Thorndike  a  good  deal  of  outward  deference. 
He  was  not  quite  sure  whether  she  blindly  believed  that  she 
loved  her  husband,  or  that  knowing  the  truth  she  sedulously 
concealed  it  from  other  eyes.  As  he  came  nearer  to  her  soul, 
however,  be  found  that  it  was  not  superficial,  that  deep  streams 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  145 

ran  underneath  the  current,  streams  that  might  have  been 
troubled  by  some  passing  emotion,  but  that  had  never  been 
stirred.  A  rare  bit  of  satisfaction  it  would  be  to  rouse  the 
swift  tide  of  something  that  he  called  passion  in  its  best  sense. 

They  met  frequently.  Of  all  the  men  in  her  husband's  cir 
cle  she  was  not  sure  but  that  she  liked  him  the  best.  Long 
quiet  talks  displayed  his  culture  and  refinement,  and  opened 
to  her  the  very  world  for  which  she  had  longed.  She  lingered 
in  delighted  amaze  at  its  fascinating  brink. 

She  stood  one  morning  studying  a  hurried  message  from 
her  husband.  He  was  to  bring  Mr.  Rutherford  in  to  lunch, 
and  gave  one  or  two  special  orders. 

She  started  in  surprise,  and  yet  with  a  pleasurable  emotion. 
He  had  made  two  or  three  flying  visits  to  Dedham,  but  she 
had  not  seen  him. 

It  was  as  if  she  looked  to  find  him  changed  in  those  brief 
months.  The  same  steadfast  face,  with  its  kindly  but  search 
ing  eyes,  the  grave  half  smile  and  cordial  voice.  And  some 
thing  above  mere  charm  of  manner,  an  earnestness  of  purpose 
that  she  had  hardly  noted  before. 

She  was  lovely  and  graceful  as  usual.  Her  conversa 
tional  powers  had  been  quickened  by  their  constant  use 
of  late,  and  he  found  her  very  entertaining,  yet  the  contrast 
between  herself  and  her  husband  was  more  marked  than  here 
tofore. 

"  I  am  glad  I  did  not  speak,"  he  mused  to  himself.  "  To 
rouse  her  energies  would  be  fatal,  unless  there  was  some  one 
to  direct  their  force.  It  is  better  that  she  should  go  on  quietly 
in  the  old  life  with  only  these  little  outbreaks  of  frivolity. 
And  yet  what  a  possibility  missed !  " 

So  they  passed  each  other  on  the  bridge  of  life.  How 
many  times  would  it  be  thus  ? 

She  spoke  of  it  that  evening  to  Mr.  Marchmont.  Mr. 
Thorndike  had  been  called  away  and  was  explaining  some 
of  his  schemes  to  the  new-comer  in  the  library.  Occasionally 
7 


146  Lucia  :    Her  Problem. 

his  unmusical  voice  grated  harshly  upon  Lucy's  ear,  although 
the  door  was  closed. 

"  He  came  to  the  meeting  of  the  directors,"  Marchmont 
replied  ;  "  although  my  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Rutherford  dates 
back  years." 

"Does  it?"  and  a  flash  of  interest  passed  over  her  face 
that  the  other  did  not  like  to  see.  "  Have  you  been  friends." 

"  Circumstances  never  threw  us  into  very  intimate  connec 
tion,  though  I  am  not  sure  the  touch  of  so  divine  a  kinship 
would  have  made  itself  felt." 

He  uttered  this  with  a  slightly  cynical  and  yet  very  fascina 
ting  smile. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  you  have  not  much  faith  in  friendship !  " 

"  You  are  correct — I  have  not.  And  yet  I  think  it  possible 
when  the  right  souls  meet. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  Mr.  Rutherford  possesses  some  of 
the  requisites.  He  has  so  much  strength  and  such  a  grand 
patience." 

"  But  is  it  not  for  himself  alone  ?  Proud  and  self-centred 
he  is,  I  grant,  yet  is  he  ready  to  help  any  struggling  soul ! " 

Lucy  started  at  this  and  flushed.  Was  it  not  what  she  had 
experienced  ?  He  had  drawn  back  from  her — but  then  she 
was  a  woman  and  a  wife.  Perhaps  he  was  right.  Somehow 
she  kept  a  stubborn  faith  in  him,  yet  she  was  silent. 

"  Mr.  Rutherford  will  always  judge  events  merely  as  they 
affect  himself.  He  is  not  large  and  free  of  vision.  If  you 
made  a  friend  of  him,  you  would  find  him  attentive,  courteous 
— but  he  would  pause  at  a  certain  bound.  He  would  not 
pass  it  himself,  nor  allow  another  so  to  do. 
"  Are  you  quite  just  ? " 

"  So  far  as  my  experience  goes,"  he  answered,  with  assured 
gravity  and  gentleness. 

There  were  certain  moods  in  this  man  which  she  distrusted. 
At  times  he  held  her  entranced  by  the  subtle  harmony  of 
thought  and  language,  or  a  brilliant  flash  of  intellectual  ex- 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  147 

citement — but  he  never  seemed  to  warm  with  the  feeling  he 
roused. 

"  Mr.  Marchmont,"  she  began,  with  a  peculiar  smile,  "  how 
much  would  you  do  for  a  friend,  one  who  loved  you  with  all 
tenderness  and  loyalty  ?  " 

"  A  man  or  a  woman  ? "  he  asked,  startled  by  the  question. 

"  A  man  I  suppose,"  and  she  laughed  innocently  enough 
at  his  confusion.  "  I  fancy  men's  warmest  friendships  are  with 
men,  and  women's  with  their  own  sex." 

*'  Not  necessarily,"  he  returned,  scanning  her  face  in  his 
keen  fashion  to  see  the  great  want  of  her  soul,  "  There  have 
been  some  noble  examples  to  the  contrary." 

"  It  may  be  possible  ; "  a  doubtful  light  playing  about  her 
lips,  like  the  breaking  of  dawn  in  rosy  skies. 

"  Why  do  you  doubt  ?  "  and  his  tone  passed  the  boundary 
line  of  earnestness. 

"  Mr.  Marchmont,"  she  said,  with  a  frankness  peculiar  to 
her,  and  which  sometimes  betrayed  her  very  soul,  "  Jt  seems  to 
me  that  it  would  be  dangerous  for  a  young  girl  to  have  such 
a  friend.  Every  grace  that  he  possessed  would  win  upon  her 
heart.  What  would  there  be  to  keep  her  from  loving  him  ? 
Even  the  knowledge  that  he  could  never  return  it,  might  not 
prove  sufficient  at  the  fatal  moment,  and  it  would  bring  her  a 
life-lohg  misery." 

"  Then  you  believe  in  an  eternity  of  and  for  love  ? " 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

Her  answer  was  so  simply  straightfonvard,  so  severely 
honest,  that  he  could  but  smile.  This  roused  her  a  little. 

"  I  believe  when  a  women  once  loves  truly  and  with  her 
whole  soul,  it  is  for  life,  death,  and  eternity.  We  judge  too 
often  from  the  imperfect  passions  all  around  us." 

Did  she  call  hers  imperfect  ?  he  wondered. 

"  And  I  think  it  one  of  the  fragile  luxuries  of  life,  not  a  ne 
cessity  by  any  means.  Friendship  is  more  satisfying.  That 
burns  with  a  steady,  not  devastating  flame." 


148  Lucia:   Her . Problem. 

"  And  to  a  married  women  her  husband  must  ever  be  the 
best  friend,"  she  continued,  returning  to  the  subject  of  which 
they  were  losing  sight. 

"  Ah,  Mrs.  Thorndike,  you  confuse  the  two.  A  friend's 
vision  is  cooler  and  clearer  than  a  lover's.  And  there  might 
be  some  points  on  which  a  friend's  authority  would  be  better, 
perhaps,  from  this  very  reason." 

A  dangerous  and  subtle  light  played  about  his  eyes,  and 
his  voice  was  modulated  to  the  finest  touch  of  persuasiveness. 

She  was  silent,  revolving  not  only  the  idea,  but  Mr.  March- 
mont  also  in  her  mind.  Though  there  might  be  moments  of 
fascination,  she  felt  that  she  should  never  love  him  under  any 
circumstances.  And  yet  he  was  pleasing.  Could  any  harm 
lurk  in  such  a  friendship  ? 

He  saw  his  advantage,  and  was  not  slow  to  take  it. 

"  You  might  go  to  your  husband  for  affection,  for  tender 
ness  and  all  that  it  is  his  duly  and  pleasure,  to  give — but  if  he 
had  no  ear  for  music,  and  you  were  extravagantly  fond  of  it, 
would  it  be  wrong  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  given  by  a  friend? " 

"  Not  in  so  simple  a  thing,  surely." 

"  A  true  friendship  asks  only  the  simplest  of  gifts.  Wiser 
than  love  it  makes  few  demands." 

She  lapsed  into  a  dreamy  revery,  and  presently  he  contin 
ued — 

"  Mrs.  Thorndike,  let  me  be  your  friend,  let  me  teach  you 
what  the  world  really  means — for  I  think  you  are  yet  in  igno 
rance  of  its  quiet  satisfaction." 

He  might  have  pleaded  more  warmly,  but  he  did  not  wish 
to  alarm.      This  foothold  once  gained,  the  rest  could  be  ac- " 
quired  at  leisure. 

The  bright,  arch  smile  came  back  to  her  face, 

"  How  have  I  won  you  ?  "  she  asked.  "  You  know  I  once 
asked  you  what  people  did  to  inspire  friendship  ?  " 

She  was  like  an  eager,  innocent  child,  and  his  soul  warmed 
strangely  towards  her. 


Lucia  :  Her  Problem.  149 

"  I  think  you  need  a  friend." 

"  But  I  will  not  be  taken  out  of  pity." 

"Pity?  Heavens;  no.  Surely  you  cannot  be  ignorant 
that  you  possess  many  qualities  requisite  for  the  keenest  enjoy 
ment  of  friendship.  I  have  watched  your  face  as  it  warmed 
with  some  far  thought  in  a  poem  that  missed  other  souls,  or 
with  the  fine  touches  half  out  of  sight  in  a  picture  that  few  be 
sides  discerned.  You  have  a  quick  and  great  capacity  for 
pleasure  and  pain,  you  suffer  deeply,  though  to  many  you  wear 
a  mask  over  the  wound.  You  have  a  rich,  full  soul  that  no 
one  has  fathomed — no,  not  even  yourself;  but  all  your  life  you 
have  been  kept  close  to  a  narrow  bound  shore,  and  not  per 
mitted  to  see  the  high  mountains  cloud-capped  and  marvellous 
on  the  one  side,  nor  the  wide  flowing  ocean  beyond — and  yet 
this  restricted  vision  might  make  shipwreck  of  your  soul's  best 
life.  Make  one  effort  and  bear  out  boldly  to  the  open,  bound*- 
less  sea ! " 

His  voice  had  been  even  almost  to  monotony  until  the  last 
sentence,  when  it  rang  out  fine  and  clear  as  if  he  had  beheld 
a  glowing  vision  of  happiness  for  her.  It  moved  her  strange 
ly,  carried  her  out  of  herself. 

"  We  will  be  friends,"  she  answered  in  a  quiet  tone  which 
contrasted  strongly  with  his  latent  vehemence. 

Was  she  wronging  the  man  across  the  hall  ?  He  had  bid 
den  her  to  be  happy  in  any  manner  that  pleased  her.  She 
would  try  this,  for  balls  and  parties  had  begun  to  have  a  vap 
id  flavor.  A  friend  to  herself; — what  did  it  mean  ? 

Mr.  Thorndike  bade  his  business  caller  good-night,  and 
turned  to  his  wife.  Marchmont  was  in  a  revery,by  the  window. 

"  How  dull  you  are,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Lucy,  why  did  you 
not  play  for  Mr.  Marchmont  ? " 

"  He  did  not  want  music  to  night,"  she  answered,  briefly. 

Marchmont,  glancing  at  this  commonplace  man,  felt  in 
clined  to  laugh,  but  was  too  well-bred  for  any  save  the  most 
courteous  demeanor. 


150  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

FRIEND     OR      FOE. 

THE  compact  between  Vaughan  Marchmont  and  Lucy 
Thorndike  was  kept  rather  more  scrupulously  in  some 
respects  than  he  had  intended.  She  was  not  quite  sure  of  the 
latitude  the  term  implied.  She  had  not  been  reared  to  a  fine 
sense  of  honor,  but  something  stronger  than  training  had  im 
planted  it  in  her  soul.  Her  husband  was  sacred  to  her,  al 
though  she  began  to  understand  that  she  had  never  loved  him, 
and  that  each  day  the  distance  between  them  widened. 

She  was  left  so  entirely  to  her  own  resources,  you  must  re 
member.  The  narrow,  rigid  creed  of  her  childhood  outgrown, 
no  other  firm  faith  had  taken  its  place.  Her  husband  was  so 
engrossed  with  business  that  he  found  little  time  to  devote  to 
her.  He  saw  no  harm  in  Mr.  Marchmont  driving  her  out,  at 
tending  her  to  a  party  or  spending  evenings  at  home.  Rachel 
heard  a  bit  of  gossip  now  and  then,  but  she  shut  her  thin  lips 
firmly  as  she  said,  "  She  had  washed  her  hands  of  the  matter." 

They  read,  sang,  and  talked  together.  He  did  rouse  some 
of  the  finer  chords  of  her  nature,  and  woke  a  new  spirit  of  am 
bition,  a  larger  and  more  comprehensive  feeling  than  her  soul 
had  yet  known.  There  were  moments  too  when  she  lingered 
on  the  verge  of  fascination.  But  just  when  she  might  have 
been  swept  down  the  swift  current  a  look  in  the  light  eyes 
startled  her,  or  half  smile  of  complacency  chilled  with  a  faint 
misgiving. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  151 

He  had  played  the  part  so  many  times  that  it  had  become 
mechanical.  Of  course  the  different  natures  gave  it  a  flavor, 
and  he  possessed  an  inordinate  love  of  mastery  and  triumph. 
His  aim  was  to  subdue,  to  make  Lucy  Thorndike  feel  that  here 
was  a  man  whom  she  could  love  with  her  whole  soul. 

But  Lucy  Thorndike  was  unlike  the  women  of  society. 
Small  vanities  she  had  in  abundance,  but  the  larger  ones  on 
which  he  had  counted  for  success,  did  not  thrive  in  this  soil. 
She  was  too  essentially  honest.  To  love  any  man  besides  her 
husband  was  a  sin  in  her  clear  eyes,  and  she  would  not  openly 
walk  into  such  a  snare. 

But  most  important  of  all,he  was  not  the  kind  of  man  whom 
she  could  thus  have  loved.  She  had  little  hesitation  therefore 
in  accepting  his  friendship  so  freely.  He  had  the  taste  and 
culture  which  appealed  strongly  to  her  aesthetic  sense.  A  talk 
with  him  was  much  more  satisfactory  than  an  evening  spent  iu 
fashionable  gossip  over  the  nothings  of  society.  ;  v  . 

And  so  the  winter  wore  away.  Spring  began  to  make  green 
the  hillsides  and  blossom  in  the  woods.  The  heat,  the  glare, 
the  sameness  of  her  petty  round  grew  wearisome  to  Lucy,  and 
her  restless  impatience  broke  out  into  long  rambles  through  the 
woods.  At  first  alone,  but  even  here  Mr.  Marchmont  soon  be 
came  her  companion. 

She  puzzled  him  more  than  any  woman  he  had  ever  met. 
Like  many  others  he  could  make  a  liberal  allowance  for  trifles 
and  superficiality,  but  simple  truth  was  like  an  unknown  tongue 
to  him.  Her  ignorance  and  charming  innocence  that  he  had 
counted  on  at  first,  became  strong  barriers  to  oppose  his  pro 
gress. 

She  entered  the  house  late  one  afternoon  with  her  hands 
full  of  wild  flowers,  her  cheeks  flushed,  and  her  deep  eyes  alight 
with  strong  and  earnest  feeling.  A  figure  just  inside  the  libra 
ry  door  caught  her  attention,  and  she  took  an  eager  step  for 
ward,  expecting  to  see  Mr.  Marchmont.  She  looked  very  love 
ly  and  girlish,  her  scarlet  lips  half  parted  with  a  smile. 


152  Lucia:   ITe,*  Problem. 

"  Oh !  "  she  exclaimed,  coming  to  a  sudden  and  rather  con 
fused  pause. 

"Am  I  an  intruder?  I  finished  all  the  business  that  I 
could  find  to  do,  and  then  accepted  your  husband's  invitation," 
Mr.  Rutherford  said  in  his  bright,  pleasant  tone.  "  The  servant 
assured  me  that  you  had  only  gone  out  for  a  walk." 

"  And  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  even  if  my  hands  are  inhospit 
ably  full,  and  perhaps  not  in  the  highest  state  of  cleanliness." 

She  dropped  the  flowers  on  the  library  table  and  pushed 
aside  her  dainty  hat  with  its  long,  brown  plume. 

"  I  am  only  sorry  that  I  did  not  come  earlier,"  he  said  half 
regretfully.  "  Nothing  would  have  pleased  me  better  than  to 
have  shared  such  a  ramble." 

"  And  I  had  no  companion.  Mr.  Rutherford,  why  did  you 
not  have  a  presentiment  ? " 

She  looked  up  eagerly.  What  was  there  in  these  eyes  that 
he  had  never  seen  before?  A  new  depth  and  strength  and 
richness ! 

"  I  am  a  dull  hand  at  these  things,"  he  said  in  a  slow  tone. 
"  I  wonder  if  any  one  ever  came  at  an  important  moment  when 
he  or  she  was  most  needed  ?  But  excuse  my  taking  up  the 
subject  so  eagerly,"  and  he  smiled. 

"  It  would  be  a  pleasant  belief  if  the  old  charm  were  true 
that  thrice  wishing  could  bring  an  absent  friend.  Only  I  won 
der  if  our  friends  would  not  sometimes  object  to  their  summary 
journeys  ? " 

"  Every  delight  seems  to  have  an  uncomfortable  side,"  he 
said.  "  Perhaps,  after  all,  a  wiser  hand  rules  even  these  small 
events  of  our  lives." 

"  Oh,"  she  exclaimed,  "  you  must  let  me  run  away  a  moment 
and  make  myself  a  bit  more  presentable.  And  will  you  ques 
tion  my  taste  if  I  have  a  vase  of  wild  flowers  among  these  ex 
otics  ? " 

"  Indeed,  no.  They  are  too  suggestive  of  balmy  skies  and 
fragrant  woody  depths  to  cavil  at" 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  153 

She  rang  for  a  vase  of  fresh  water,  and  arranged  them  in  a 
graceful  manner,  sending  away  the  refuse.  Then  she  disap 
peared  herself. 

"  Sometimes  she  spent  an  hour  or  two  in  the  hands  of  her 
dressing-maid,  and  emerged  from  thence  in  a  state  of  splendor. 
Now  she  smoothed  her  golden  hair  and  donned  a  soft  gray  silk, 
fastening  a  knot  of  pink  ribbon  at  her  throat.  She  could  hard 
ly  miss  looking  pretty  in  any  thing. 

So  she  hurried  back  to  her  visitor  and  found  him  still 
studying  the  flowers. 

The  day  had  been  unusually  warm  and  delightful,  and  the 
grate  fire  was  going  sleepily  to  ashes.  Through  the  open  win 
dow  came  genial  airs  of  spring.  Somehow  she  seemed  to  be 
a  part  of  the  fast  dawning  season,  soft,  fair  and  fragrant. 

"  What  a  pleasure  it  is  to  see  you  here  again,"  she  exclaim 
ed  in  her  gay,  glad  voice.  "  I  had  begun  to  think  you  almost 
as  much  of  a  business  man  as  Mr.  Thorndike,  who  never  has 
eyes,  ears, nor  time  for  any  thing  beside." 

"I  have  been  a  good  deal  engrossed  during  the  last 
year." 

"  I  think  you  are  looking  rather  pale  and  worn,"  she  said. 

"  Am  I  ? "  Well,  I  am  going  to  take  a  long  holiday,  and 
a  long  journey." 

"  Are  you  ?     Where  are  you  going,  Mr.  Rutherford  ?  " 

Her  bright  face  was  all  eagerness  and  interest — and  she 
questioned  like  a  child. 

"To  Greece — and  afterward  I  shall  take  some  rambles 
along  the  shore  of  the  Mediterranean." 

She  was  silent  with  surprise ;  and  then  a  very  curious  feel 
ing  took  its  place — as  if  she  dreaded  to  have  him  so  far 
away. 

"Well?" 

His  voice  was  very  pleasant  and  invited  some  comment. 

"  It  will  be  delightful  !     I  more  than  half  envy  you  ;  "  in  a 
lingering  tone. 
7* 


154  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  Your  turn  will  come  some  day.  There  is  a  peculiar  ro 
mance  lurking  about  the  Orient.  It  is  just  as  fresh  now  as  in 
my  boyhood,  when  it  was  my  one  dream." 

"  No,"  she  answered,  softly,  "  I  am  afraid  my  turn  will 
never  come  for  that.  Mr.  Thorndike  is  not  fond  of  pleasure- 
travelling — it  bores  him." 

"  Mine  is  part  duty — though  I  mean  to  make  it  a  source 
of  much  pleasure.  I  am  guardian  for  the  child  of  a  friend  who 
has  lately  lost  her  mother,  and  is  left  to  the  care  of  some 
cousins.  Her  mother's  family  are  anxious  about  her  ;  and  as 
I  esteem  them  highly,  I  am  the  more  willing  to  undertake  the 
quest  " 

"  And  after  you  reach  them  ? " 

Somehow  she  half  envied  the  party  who  should  be  under 
his  guidance. 

"  The  child's  health  is  not  very  firm — so  we  shall  linger  by 
the  lovely  sea  of  which  poets  and  painters  dream.  In  some 
visions  brighter  than  all  the  rest,  I  shall  remember  you." 

"  Still,  I  wish  you  were  not  going.  I  am  very  unreason 
able,  you  see." 

He  had  not  the  vanity  to  interpret  the  words  into  any  pure 
ly  personal  compliment.  He  thought  of  her  rather  as  one  who 
fearing  the  path  in  which  she  must  walk,  stretches  out  timor 
ous  hands  for  courage  and  strength.  This  sympathetic  read 
ing  of  her  vague  mood  touched  her  and  imparted  a  still  keener 
regret. 

"  I  shall  be  sorry  to  have  you  go,"  she  said  ;  "  and  yet  it 
is  a  selfish  sorrow.  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  friends  as  being 
quite  out  of  reach." 

"  Two  or  three  years  soon  pass.  I  shall  expect  to  find  yoa 
the  wife  of  a  millionaire  on  my  return." 

The  money  fell  upon  her  ears  with  an  empty  sound.  She 
was  thinking  of  some  few  things  that  were  better  than  gold. 
And  especially  that  far  land  of  song  and  romance.  She  had 
spoken  truly  when  she  said  travelling  for  pleasure  bored  her 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  155 

husband.  So  she  felt  herself  shut  out  of  that  source  of  en 
joyment. 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  she  exclaimed,  "the  land  of  citron 
blooms  and  orange  groves.  You  know  you  once  described  the 
Alps  for  me." 

Ah,  she  still  remembered  that — one  of  their  pleasant  idle 
evenings. 

He  possessed  the  rare  faculty  of  making  marvellous  word- 
pictures.  She  listened  as  the  twilight  fell  softly  about  them, 
and  the  gray  ashes  of  the  grate  dropped  in  little  mounds  on  the 
fender.  She  heard  the  cool  lapping  of  the  waves  in  his  voice, 
she  saw  the  dreamy  shores,  the  groves,  the  mountains,  the  shep 
herds  with  their  flocks,  the  indolent  peasant  drowsing  on  banks 
made  white  with  the  snow  of  orange  blossoms.  And  she  thought 
— what  a  companion  this  man  would  be  for  such  a  journey. 
To  have  him  wasted  upon  foolish,  unformed  children,  was  ab 
surd. 

Why  had  he  never  married  ?  She  roused  herself,  and 
glanced  up  in  the  shadowy  light. 

"I  am  tiring  you." 

"  Oh  no,  Mr.  Rutherford,  I  was  only  wondering — " 

Mary  came  to  light  up  and  receive  some  orders  about  the 
table.  Then  Mr.  Thorndike's  step  and  breezy  voice  were 
heard,  and  the  dream  of  Grecian  shores  vanished. 

The  dinner  was  elegant  as  usual.  Afterward  some  friends 
— Mr.  and  Mrs.  Graham,  and  the  lady's  sister,  a  Miss  Ronald, 
dropped  in.  When  the  conversation  flagged  a  little,  and  some 
how  Lucy  could  not  come  down  to  commonplace  level  easily, 
cards  were  proposed. 

Mr.  Rutherford  declined  playing,  and  was  meditating  a 
graceful  departure,  when  another  visitor  was  announced. 

"  Mr.  Marchmont !  " 

Mrs.  Thorndike  glanced  up  to  watch  the  meeting  between 
them.  It  was  eminently  courteous,  indeed  if  there  was  any 
secret  antagonism  between  the  two,  they  had  the  good  taste 


153  Lucia:  Her  P/'obler,i. 

not  to  drag  it  into  business  relations  or  a  chance  encounter 
like  this. 

"  So  you  went  to  the  woods  ? "  Mr.  Marchmont  said,  in  a 
low  tone,  nodding  to  the  vase  of  wild  flowers. 

"  Yes,  I  waited  nearly  an  hour  for  you,  then  I  remembered 
that  Mr.  Thorndike  said  at  lunch,  that  there  was  to  be  a  meet 
ing  of  directors  or  something.  But  I  was  not  to  be  cheated 
out  of  my  ramble  !" 

She  uttered  this  with  a  kind  of  gleeful  elation  as  if  she  had 
achieved  a  victory. 

He  bit  his  lip.  He  had  been  trying  to  make  himself  abso 
lutely  necessary  to  this  woman's  enjoyment  of  such  small  pleas 
ures,  and  occasionally  she  surprised  him  by  a  mood  of  bril 
liant  and  aggravating  independence. 

"  I  dare  say  you  never  missed  me.  The  sunshine  was 
brighter,  the  flowers  sweeter,  and  the  birds  more  joyous  for  the 
solitude." 

"  Would  it  be  so  with  you  ?  "  she  asked,  archly. 

"  Not  if  I  had  a  friend  to  regret." 

The  handsome  face  took  on  a  half-sad  expression. 

"  Well,  I  did  miss  you.     Will  that  content  you  ?  " 

The  voice  and  face  were  alike  gay.  There  was  no  trace  of 
latent  sentiment. 

He  knew  she  must  have  gone  alone,  yet  he  caught  him 
self  wondering  when  Mr.  Rutherford  could  have  made  his  ap 
pearance.  A  feeling  of  grudging  jealousy  stole  over  him.  He 
could  allow  no  one  to  sway  her  but  himself. 

Low  as  their  voices  had  been  modulated,  Mr.  Rutherford 
had  caught  every  word.  And  now  he  glanced  them  both  over 
with  a  curious  feeling. 

A  man  of  the  world — handsome,  fascinating,  and  unscru 
pulous,  whose  experience  in  society  had  been  wide  and  varied, 
and  a  woman  with  beauty  enough  to  make  her  an  object  in  this 
man's  eyes,  but  with  no  safeguard  or  security  against  his  wiles. 
Not  that  he  meant  positive  dishonor.  Mr.  Marchmont  was  not 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  157 

likely  to  throw  himself  away  for  the  sake  of  any  woman's  love. 
It  was  that  more  subtle  destruction  of  faith  and  trust,  of  love 
raised  to  a  pedestal  and  then  rudely  plunged  into  the  black 
and  bitter  ashes  of  despair. 

Warren  Thorndike  sat  unconscious  of  the  little  tragedy 
that  might  be  played  before  him.  He  laughed  boisterously 
as  he  took  a  trick — he  was  always  delighted  with  triumphs, 
large  or  small.  How  coarse  and  common  the  man  was !  And 
yet  he  was  Lucy  Thorndike's  untrusty  keeper  ! 

The  two  went  on  with  their  by-play  innocent  enough,  and 
not  done  by  stealth  on  her  side  at  least ;  but  Marchmont's 
furtive  glances  were  not  pleasant  things  to  encounter. 

Miss  Ronald,  tired  of  being  beaten  in  every  game,  and  per 
haps  looking  with  longing  eyes  on  the  two  marriageable  gen 
tlemen  opposite,  declared  that  she  was  weary  of  playing. 

"  Come,  Marchmont,  take  a  hand,"  said  his  host. 

"  Excuse  me.  Not  after  those  tremendous  columns  of  fig 
ures  which  are  still  floating  in  detachments  through  my  brain. 
I  should  make  statements  instead  of  points." 

"  Ho  !"  laughed  Mr.  Thorndike,  almost  contemptuously, 
"  I  don't  let  'em  trouble  me  afterward.  They're  all  safe  and 
right.  Lucy,  you'll  have  to  be  Mr.  Graham's  partner." 

''  No,  I  shall  decline  out  of  good  feeling  for  Mr.  Graham, 
merely  explaining  an  old  fact  to  him  that  my  partner  is  always 
a  most  unlucky  man.  I  have  no  charmed  fingers  for  cards. 
Let  us  go  to  the  drawing-room  and  have  some  music.  Miss 
Ronald  sings." 

The  young  lady  was  delighted  with  this  proposal. 

"  Oh,  hang  the  music !  "  burst  out  Mr.  Thorndike. 

His  wife's  fair  face  flushed  the  deepest  scarlet.  The  small 
refinements  that  she  had  tried  to  engraft  upon  her  husband 
had  not  taken  root  kindly,  and  occasionally  were  flung  off  with 
a  careless  wrench. 

Lucy  recovered  herself  and  smiled  in  a  kind  of  royal 
fashion  over  the  wound  in  her  heart.  So,  while  timid  Miss 


158  Lucia:    Her  Problem. 

Ronald  stood  in  indecision,  she  marshalled  the  way  across 
the  hall. 

''  Stay,  Graham,  and  have  some  wine.  Won't  you  join  us, 
Rutherford  ? " 

"  I  think  I'll  take  the  music  as  a  first  course,"  he  replied, 
rising. 

Mr.  Thorndike's  prosperity,  although  much  of  it  was  in 
prospective,  was  leading  rapidly  to  indulgences.  The  bright 
glow  of  health  had  changed  to  the  ruddier  one  of  stimulants. 
Not  that  he  had  fallen  into  positive  habits  of  dissipation,  but 
he  was  on  a  dangerous  verge. 

Mr.  Graham  loved  wine,  cigars  and  good  cheer.  They  had 
the  library  to  themselves  while  the  party  in  the  drawing-room 
sought  a  more  refined  manner  of  enjoymsnt. 

Miss  Ronald  was  delighted  to  have  this  elegant  Mr.  March  - 
mont  turning  music  for  her  and  joining  in  duets.  She  rather 
envied  Mrs.  Thorndike's  power  of  attracting  gentlemen,  and 
perhaps  would  never  have  given  it  credit  for  a  large  element 
of  simplicity. 

Mr.  Rutherford,  in  the  mean  while,  devoted  himself  to  Mrs. 
Graham,  a  showily,  over-dressed  woman,  rather  loud  in  all  her 
ways.  Lucy  gave  him  a  grateful  look.  The  friendly  element 
in  him  seemed  to  come  out  so  strong  and  clear  that  again  she 
thought — how  one  could  trust  him  ! 

So  the  evening  drew  to  an  end  very  pleasantly.  Mrs.  Gra 
ham  excused  herself  for  giving  a  verbal  invitation,  but  she  was  go 
ing  to  have  a  small  company  at  her  house  on  Monday  evening 
next,  and  she  should  be  so  happy  to  have  him  join  them.  Mrs. 
Thorndike  had  accepted. 

"  I  expect  to  leave  to  morrow,"  he  replied,  "  therefore  I 
shall  be  compelled  to  decline.  I  merely  came  to  Dedham  on 
a  matter  of  business." 

"  Mrs.  Thorndike,  won't  you  persuade  him  ?  It's  only  to 
stay  over  a  day  or  two." 

Lucy  was  very  good-natured,  and  perhaps  a  trifle  selfish. 


Lucia:  ITer  Problem.  150 

Mr.  Thorndike  had  told  her  to  accept  this  invitation  of  the 
Grahams,  and  in  order  to  surround  herself  with  some  agreea 
ble  spirits  she  was  ready  to  plea  1. 

"  You  know  the  steamer  sails  on  Wednesday,"  he  said  in  a 
low  tone. 

"  And  I  also  know  that  it  is  quite  possible  we  may  never 
meet  again,"  with  something  in  her  voice  that  sounded  like  a 
smothered  pain. 

He  started  at  that,  then  added — 

"  But  I  really  have  not  time." 

"  For  my  sake.     I  shall  claim  the  Sunday." 

Mrs.  Graham's  attention  had  been  diverted  for  a  moment, 
but  now  she  turned. 

"  Have  you  persuaded  him  ?  " 

"  She  has  persuaded  me,"  responded  Mr.  Rutherford  with 
a  smile. 

"And  you  will  come  on  Monday  evening? " 

"  I  will  come,"  for  Lucy  Thorndike's  eyes  were  still  upon 
him. 

Vaughan  Marchmont  had  been  a  witness  to  the  last  of  this, 
and  ground  his  teeth.  He  began  to  hate  the  other  actively, 
instead  of  the  passive  dislike  he  had  hitherto  entertained. 

"  Perhaps  it  wasn't  quite  right,"  Lucy  said  in  a  repentant 
whisper,  "but  the  temptation  was  great." 

Mr.  Rutherford  gave  her  a  kindly  smile,  showing  that  he 
had  not  taken  her  teasirg  amiss. 

When  Mr.  Thorndike  found  that  Mr.  Rutherford  was  to  re 
main  until  Tuesday,  as  he  announced  it  to  that  gentleman  in 
the  course  of  his  Saturday  morning's  conversation,  an  urgent 
invitation  was  given  for  him  to  accept  the  hospitalities  of  the 
Thorndike  mansion.  There  were  ample  hotel  accommodations 
now,  but  Warren  Thorndike  was  anxious  to  do  the  handsome 
thing,  as  he  explained  to  his  wife,  when  he  brought  Mr.  Ruth 
erford  home  to  dinner  on  the  second  day. 

When  Mr.  Marchmont  saw  him  step  out  of  the  elegant 


ICO  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

Thorndike  carriage  on  Sunday  morning,  his  heart  was  filled 
with  bitterness.  The  hours  they  would  spend  together  rankled 
thornily ;  even  the  remembrance  that  they  would  be  the  last  for 
a  long  while  could  not  soften  the  sense  of  personal  injury. 

They  were  simple  enough,  with  but  small  chance  for  danger. 
On  Sunday  evening  as  Mr.  Thorndike,  overcome  with  indo 
lence  and  a  good  dinner,  drowsed  in  his  chair,  the  two  ventured 
upon  a  conversation  that  though  it  contained  no  word  to  which 
the  whole  world  might  not  have  listened,  was  still  a  matter  sa 
cred  between  two  souls. 

Where  had  she  gained  this  depth  and  richness,  this  power 
to  grasp  finer  truths,  this  insight  into  human  souls?  Once  he 
had  stood  aloof  with  a  man's  slow,  undecided  pity,  thinking  the 
old  groove  the  safest  for  her,  but  she  had  stepped  out  of  it. 
Here  was  the  possibility  of  a  noble  woman,  strong  in  faith, 
truth,  affection  !  What  master  hand  had  thus  tuned  the 
chords  ? 

He  had  known  love  to  work  this  miracle  ;  but  the  man  over 
yonder,  with  his  narrow,  turgid  brain,  responding  only  to  the 
clink  of  gold,  had  no  such  power.  Had  she  come  up  to  these 
heights  alone  ? 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  161 


CHAPTER  XV. 

LOITERING   ON   THE    BRINK. 

MRS.  GRAHAM'S  party  was  in  full  blast.  An  inelegant 
term  I  grant,  but  no  other  seems  to  express  it  perfect 
ly.  Although  many  of  the  guests  were  refined  there  was  still 
something  vulgar  and  common  about  it.  Mr.  Graham  had 
owned  part  of  the  mining  tract  and  sold  it  for  a  fabulous  sum, 
since  copper  as  well  as  iron  had  been  discovered.  So  he  had 
built  an  addition  to  his  house  and  furnished  it  in  most  exag 
gerated  style.  The  carpets  were  painfully  bright,  the  reps  in 
glaring  flowers,  and  the  cornices  broader  than  any  in  Dedham. 

The  two  things  that  gave  Lucy  Thorndike  most  pleasure 
were  the  flowers  and  the  music.  Then  the  night  was  suffi 
ciently  pleasant  to  admit  of  rambling  out  on  the  wide  balcony 
where  a  glorious  moon  rivalled  the  glare  within.  Of  late  she 
had  declined  large  parties  upon  one  plea  and  another,  in 
fluenced  somewhat  by  Mr  Marchmont. 

Mrs.  Graham  and  Miss  Ronald  were  in  their  glory.  It 
elated  her  greatly  to  have  Mr.  Marchmont  walk  through  a  qua 
drille  with  her  and  mark  another  on  her  card. 

If  he  meant  to  pique  Lucy  Thorndike  he  failed  signally. 
He  might  have  danced  half  the  night  with  Miss  Ronald,  and 
no  cloud  would  have  marred  her  fair  face. 

But  he  could  not  endure  finding  himself  superseded.  A 
dangerous  flame  sped  through  his  pulses.  He  would  regain 
his  lost  ground  here  before  Mr.  Rutherford's  very  eyes.  He 
would  have  no  rival  triumphing  in  secret. 


1C2  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

When  Vaughan  Marchmont  resolved  he  could  be  very  win 
some.  He  beguiled  Lucy  Thorndike  into  dancing,  and  he 
could  render  it  a  most  fascinating  amusement  to  her.  Then  he 
took  her  to  a  quiet  corner  for  an  ice,  and  gave  her  no  time  for 
reflection.  He  was  in  one  of  those  subtle,  magnetic  moods 
that  had  won  him  some  difficult  triumphs  before,  and  he  hur 
ried  her  along  on  the  swift,  sparkling  tide  of  excitement.  His 
voice  was  eagerly  perfuasive,  his  eyes  played  in  depths  of 
strange  light,  like  some  brilliant  auroral  gleam. 

She  had  never  been  subjected  to  his  full  power  before.  He 
kept  that  for  women  of  the  world,  old  campaigners.  Now  the 
forceful  flame  stirred  her  blood,  her  brain  seemed  to  swim  in 
languid  mazes  of  satisfaction,  forgetfulness.  With  another  it 
might  have  been  love. 

She  made  no  resistance,  because  she  saw  no  danger.  He 
had  imbued  her  with  his  creed,  or  rather  in  some  moments  she 
seemed  to  slip  indolently  into  it.  No  one  had  ever  raised  a 
warning  voice  against  this  lapse  into  heathendom. 

"  There  is  our  waltz,"  he  said  presently,  watching  the  slum 
berous  light  in  her  eyes. 

"  Not  now,"  she  answered  almost  unconsciously. 

Let  her  go  back  to  Rutherford  when  this  spell  had  but  half 
accomplished  its  workl  A  hard,  haughty  smile  crossed  his 
lips. 

"  Yes,  now.  It's  a  long  while  since  I  have  asked  the  favor," 
in  that  half- sad,  half-pleading,  and  wholly  persuasive  voice  that 
so  often  wins  a  woman. 

They  went  out  to  the  dancing-room,  she  moving  slowly  as 
if  in  a  trance.  The  lights  dazzled,  the-gales  of  melody  were 
wafted  from  some  enchanting  shore.  Weird  voices  of  mystery, 
tender,  passionate  and  alluring.  Half  a  dozen  couples  had 
joined  the  mazy  whirl,  and  were  keeping  time  with  eager, 
dainty  feet. 

Marchmont  drew  her  in  with  the  tide.  Mrs.  McLaren  was 
just  in  front  of  them  with  a  friend,  and  Miss  Ronald  farther 


Lucia:  .Her  Problem.  1G3 

on  in  her  flowing  white  robes.  She  yielded  to  the  swift  cur 
rent  and  floated  on,  her  glancing  feet  scarcely  touching  the 
floor,  the  strong  arm  encircling  her  rendering  any  volition  of 
her  own  unnecessary. 

All  the  grace  and  perfection  of  her  nature,  the  vague  aspira 
tions  and  enthusiasms,  the  ardent  longing  and  keen  wants 
that  sometimes  tortured  her  were  met  and  answered  by  these 
wild,  quivering  strains  of  music.  Life  was  an  everlasting  now  ! 
She  forgot  the  unsatisfactory  past,  and  the  future  with  its 
dreary  level  and  arid  wastes.  The  complete  satisfaction  blos 
somed  in  her  face  like  the  glory  of  a  new  dawn. 

Rutherford  stood  in  one  of  the  wide  doorways.  He  saw 
the  light  form  swaying  like  a  lily  in  the  summer  air,  the  droop 
ing,  large-lidded  eyes  with  gleams  of  tropical  fire  kindling  their 
smouldering  softness,  the  still  scarlet  lips,  the  sloping  shoulders 
through  their  veil  of  white,  and  the  trembling,  panting  bliss 
so  near  to  exquisite  pain.  Why  should  he  start  at  such  a  capa 
city  of  emotion  visible  in  every  feature  and  movement. 

Once  or  twice  in  his  life  he  had  attained  to  some  rare  pos 
sibility  in  a  day  dream,  of  a  woman  whose  nature  might  thus 
be  responsive  to  his  own,  in  whom  he  could  awaken  different 
feelings  with  his  changing  moods.  For  an  instant  he  envied 
Marchmont  madly,  and  then  he  roused  himself. 

What  right  had  he  to  think  about  this  woman  ?  She  was 
not  for  him,  nor  for  Marchmont.  And  then  a  black  gulf 
yawned  before  him,  she  treading  carelessly  on  its  verge,  behold 
ing  no  danger  in  the  flowers  that  covered  its  edge. 

In  the  course  of  his  thirty-five  years  he  had  seen  the  trag 
edy  played  more  than  once.  He  knew  the  swift  way  in  which 
souls  were  lured  to  destruction,  the  bitter  depths  to  which  they 
were  hurled.  Was  there  no  one  to  save  her  ?  Would  these 
women  look  on  and  smile  until  the  last  fatal  boundary  had 
been  passed  and  then  hold  up  their  white  hands,  guiltless,  and 
only  speak  her  name  in  derisive  pity  ?  He  studied  the  faces. 
Happy  wives  perhaps,  proud,  fond  daughters,  each  intent  upon 


1G4  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

her  own  pleasure.  Doubtless  they  could  preach  pretty  moral 
homilies  in  their  serious  moments,  and  with  as  much  compla 
cency  watch  the  soul  of  their  sister  go  down  to  perdition. 

And  then  he  glanced  at  her  again.  Months  ago  he  had 
discerned  in  her  a  vague,  mental  hungering  after  a  higher  and 
more  satisfying  sustenance  than  she  had  yet  known.  He 
dreaded  these  crude  awakenings  in  women,  and  when  he  look 
ed  around  on  her  barren  life  and  saw  the  utter  dearth  and 
poverty  of  true  soul  aliment,  he  shrank  from  bringing  her  face 
to  face  with  these  cold  bare  facts.  Had  she  strength  to  buffet 
through  dark  waves  of  despair  and  at  last  sit  alone  on  the  dreary 
shore  knowing  herself  safe  and  in  the  right,  and  yet  with  a 
mere  negative  satisfaction  before  her?  The  souls  of  women 
needed  warmth  and  love,  and  when  she  came  to  know  truly 
what  she  could  give,  would  she  not  in  some  moment  of  fatal 
weakness  reach  out  her  hand  for  forbidden  fruit? 

So  he  had  left  her  safe  in  her  ignorance,  he  thought,  and 
another  was  teaching  her  the  dangerous  lesson.  In  any  case 
the  result  must  be  misery.  Should  he  save  her  even  now  ? 

Paul  Rutherford  had  received  more  than  one  hard  blow 
from  adverse  fate.  He  had  been  betrayed  in  matters  of  sacred 
faith — he  had  been  wounded  in  the  house  of  a  friend — and  one 
or  two  that  he  had  plucked  from  the  burning,  had  laughed  him 
to  scorn.  Would  she? 

After  all,  what  was  she  to  him  ?  The  wife  of  a  mere  busi 
ness  acquaintance — a  young  and  pretty  woman,  on  whom  the 
world  would  smile  until  the  very  day  that  she  went  down,  be 
cause  her  husband  carried  a  golden  key.  Why  should  he  save 
her? 

Oh,  because  Christ  died  for  all !  Because  the  first  brother, 
unfaithful  to  his  trust,  had  received  a  fatal  mark,  that  all  seeing 
might  know  the  fearful  crime.  Because  in  this  world  one  was 
to  reach  out  a  helping  hand  to  another,  and  tide  over  the  peril 
ous  places. 

French  horns  blew  out  their  last  lingering  sweetness.     The 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  165 

notes  of  the  viol  and  flute  dropped  down  to  silence,  and  yet  the 
very  air  still  quivered  with  melody.  He  saw  the  one  face  full 
of  impassioned  beauty  and  languid  grace,  with  the  mist  of  gold 
en  curls  lying  bright  about  it.  And  then  he  drew  near. 

Vaughan  Marchmont  was  wild  enough  to  compromise  her 
in  the  eyes  of  this  man.  He  wanted  to  rivet  his  claim  so  strong 
ly  that  it  could  never  be  wholly  broken  again.  He  gave 
Rutherford  a  haughty,  supercilious  stare,  and  she  smiled  dream- 
ily. 

"  Oh,  my  fan,  "  she  said  in  a  soft  breath.  "  I  believe  I  put 
it  on  the  stand  with  that  Marble  Flora.  " 

He  bit  his  lips  fiercely  beneath  the  jetty  mustache.  If 
there  had  been  a  servant  near — but  there  was  not — and  he 
must  leave  her  a  brief  moment.  He  whispered  something  in 
her  ear — 

"  You  are  tired,"  Mr.  Rutherford  said,  in  his  cool,  clear 
tones,  that  seemed  to  revive  her  like  the  plash  of  falling  water 
in  a  leafy  covert. 

"  Rather — yes  ;  but  it  was  enchanting." 

Her  cheeks  glowed,  and  a  magnetic  flame  seemed  hover 
ing  about  the  drowsy  eyes. 

"  You  danced  too  long.    You  will  not  waltz  again  to-night  ?  " 

She  roused  herself  a  little  and  glanced  at  him. 

"Yes,  once,  after  supper — I  have  just  promised." 

"  Keep  the  first  quadrille  for  me — it  is  my  secret." 

He  uttered  this  hurriedly,  and  it  was  all  that  he  had  time 
to  say. 

Mr.  Marchmont  came  with  the  fan  and  her  shawl. 

"  Let  us  go  where  it  is  cooler,"  he  said,  and  with  a  glance 
the  eyes  of  the  two  men  met. 

In  some  odd  way  the  look  crossed  Lucy  Thorndike's  vision 
as  well.  She  smiled  with  a  quaint  piquantness  and  that  pecu 
liar  inward  knowledge  that  her  senses  were  sometimes  empow 
ered  to  translate.  They  were  enemies — and  why  ? 

Vaughan  Marchmont  shawled  her  and  led  her  away.    They 


166  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

sat  by  an  open  window  watching  the  couples  go  by,  and  were 
strangely  silent. 

A  little  while  afterward  supper  was  announced.  They 
trooped  in  two  and  two,  chatting  gayly  amid  the  jam  and  crush. 
Mr.  Thorndike  had  a  very  showy  young  woman  on  his  arm, 
and  nodded  familiarly  as  he  passed  his  wife  and  Marchmont. 
Some  of  the  women  looked  askance.  What  right  had  she  al 
ways  to  appropriate  the  most  remarkable  gentlemen  ? 

She  was  not  in  the  mood  for  eating.  Some  wayward  blood 
was  at  Carnival  tide  in  her  veins.  If  life  could  be  one  long 
revel — forgetting  that  she  had  tired  of  it  before.  To-night  she 
felt  inspired.  Did  she  stand  on  the  verge  of  some  daring  mys 
tery? 

An  hour  or  two  later  they  left  the  warm  and  crowded  room 
gladly.  The  musicians  were  making  a  hideous  discord  tuning 
afresh. 

"  You  must  dance  one  quadrille  with  Miss  Ronald,"  Lucy 
said  to  her  companion. 

"  Why  ?  "  rather  impatiently. 

"  Because  I  will  not  have  such  exclusive  devotion,"  and  she 
laughed  gayly.  "  You  owe  the  hostess  some  attention." 

"  Suppose  I  pay  her  the  kind  I  prefer  ? " 

"You  will  please  to  pay  her  the  kind  /  prefer  !  "  with  a 
pretty  imperiousness. — "  Dance  this  first  quadrille,  for  I  am 
engaged." 

"  And  for  how  many  more  ? "  he  asked  moodily. 

"None  —  except  your  waltz  — "  as  an  after -thought. 
"  Come,  here  is  Miss  Ronald." 

They  turned  facing  her.  Mr.  Marchmont  would  have  let 
her  go  again  but  for  the  calling  of  the  quadrille.  He  secretly 
hoped  that  some  one  had  a  prior  claim. 

It  must  have  been  of  a  very  high  order  indeed  had  Miss 
Ronald  allowed  it  to  stand  in  the  way  of  such  a  splendid  op 
portunity.  She  thought  it  a  decided  triumph  to  deprive  Mrs. 
Thorndike  of  her  cavalier  right  before  her  face,  and  was  only 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  167 

too  happy  and  too  ready  to  accept.  Little  did  she  dream  that 
she  owed  the  honor  to  her  calm  and  lovely  rival. 

Marchmont  gnawed  his  lips  spitefully. 

"  And  you  ?  "  he  said,  glancing  back. 

She  smiled  and  nodded  in  reply,  thinking  she  had  kept  the 
secret  in  a  most  charming  manner.  But  where  was  Mr.  Ruth 
erford  ? 

He  came  in  answer  to  the  unspoken  question. 

"  We  shall  be  late,"  she  exclaimed,  holding  out  her  fault 
lessly  gloved  hand. 

"  Do  you  care  to  dance  ?  I  had  another  thought  in  my 
mind—" 

Something  in  the  slow  moving  eyes  and  grave  face  arrest 
ed  her  attention.  As  if  he  had  come  to  some  perplexed  strait 
and  hardly  knew  which  step  to  take  next. 

"  No,"  she  returned  with  a  short,  forced  laugh,  "  at  least 
not  if  you  can  offer  any  other  attraction." 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  you — of  yourself,"  he  said  abruptly. 

She  started  at  this  and  looked  at  him  so  sharply  that  he 
flushed.  Was  this  all  ignorance  or  consummate  acting  ?  he 
asked  himself. 

"  Will  it  be  too  cool  to  walk  down  the  path  ?  I  think  I  can 
find  your  shawl." 

"There  is  one  in  the  room  at  the  end  of  the  hall.  How 
very  mysterious  you  are  !  Do  you  know  I  am  quite  afraid  of 
you?" 

There  was  a  solitary  light  burning  in  this  small  apartment. 
The  waves  of  music  surged  in  more  faintly,  and  gave  a  curi 
ous  impression  to  this  scene  of  rather  graceful  disorder  that 
might  have  set  itself  up  for  a  nameless  tableau,  so  harmoni 
ously  were  the  rich  colors  blended. 

"  No,  do  not  be  afraid  of  me,"  in  a  husky  tone,  with  the  lips 
growing  a  shade  paler.  "  I  wish  I  were  your  friend,  your 
brother.  I  wish  I  had  some  vital  claim  that  might  afford  a 
shadow  of  support  for  this — this  duty." 


168  Lucia:  Her  ProUem. 

She  was  alarmed  now.  She  came  a  step  nearer,  her  deep 
eyes  glancing  fearlessly  at  him.  Her  courage  and  truth  and 
purity  impressed  him  strangely.  There  was  more  in  her  soul 
and  in  her  nature  than  he  had  ever  credited  them  with,  and 
made  her  just  so  much  the  more  worth  saving. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  said  in  her  direct  way,  an  air  of  surprise 
lifting  her  nearly  level  brows. 

Was  not  all  the  danger  imaginary  ?  Would  he  dare  point 
it  out  to  her  ? 

"  But  you  are  to  waltz  again  with  him,"  he  said,  following 
out  his  own  train  of  thought  rather  than  addressing  her.  And 
with  it  came  back  the  vision  at  which  he  still  shivered.  Yes, 
there  was  urgent  need  of  his  speaking,  since  it  must  be  now  or 
not  at  all. 

"  Mr.  Rutherford,"  and  she  made  a  pretty  gesture  of  im 
perious  disdain,  "  you  men  are  as  hard,  and  little,  and  grudg 
ing  with  each  other  as  the  most  narrow  of  women  are  said  to 
be.  Suppose  I  do  dance  with  Mr.  Marchmont — have  I  not 
accorded  you  the  same  favor?  I  am  not  a  silly  young  girl  to 
be  quarrelled  about?" 

Her  voice,  though  low,  had  a  steely',  unflinching  ring  in  it, 
and  with  a  brave  expression  she  seemed  to  hold  herself  above 
them  both. 

Oh,"  he  said,  "  it  was  for  your  sake  ; "  and  there  was  a  be 
seeching  pathos  in  his  voice  such  as  a  mother  might  have  used. 
"  To-morrow  I  shall  go  away,  and  I  should  never  want  your 
face  to  rise  up  in  judgment  against  me  !  " 

"  What  bit  of  melo-drama  is  this,  Mr.  Rutherford  ? " 

Could  he  make  her  understand  that  she  was  dallying  upon 
the  brink  of  danger  ?  Or  was  she  one  of  those  pure  high  souls 
that  at  the  important  moment  soar  above  pitfalls  spread  in  the 
way?  For  her  almost  scornful  voice  stung  him. 

"  God  forbid  that  I  should  wish  to  turn  it  into  melo-drama," 
he  said  earnestly.  "  It  is  because  you  stand  so  alone,  because 
when,  you  come  to  peril  no  warning  voice  might  be  raised — " 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  169 

She  gave  a  sudden  start  as  if  a  gulf  had  yawned  at  her  very 
feet.  '*'  Peril !  peril !  "  she  repeated,  as  if  not  half  comprehend 
ing,  and  then  she  looked  long  and  keenly  into  his  eyes. 

What  vision  came  to  her  through  that  deep  patient  endur 
ance  of  her  scrutiny !  Again  the  lights  and  the  music  wavered 
before  her,  the  almost  fiery  breath  upon  her  cheek,  the  strong 
arm  encircling  her.  Yes,  she  saw  his  meaning  now,  and  her 
cheek  was  stained  with  deepest  crimson. 

"  Oh,  heavens  !  "  she  cried  in  her  wild  confusion  and  dis 
tress — "  you  can't  think — no,  it  would  be  cruel !  " 

"  I  think  you  a  very  child  in  your  unwisdom,  your  eager, 
joyous  spirits,  your  love  of  amusement,  and  your  occasional 
spasms  after  a  better  and  higher  knowledge.  But  the  world 
will  not  let  you  stay  here.  You  must  go  on  in  some  fashion. 
I  hoped  one  dreamy  day  in  the  autumn  past  that  the  skies 
might  always  be  as  fair  for  you,  the  way  unruffled  ;  and  since 
for  highest  joys  too  many  of  us  pay  in  keenest  pain,  I  prayed 
that  the  one  might  barely  miss,  the  other  never  find  you." 

"  Yes,"  she  interrupted  with  scornful  vehemence,  "  a  man's 
prayer  truly  !  And  I  tell  you  that  I  hate  these  narrow  bounds 
of  ignorance.  Do  you  suppose  that  dressing  and  dancing,  eat 
ing  and  drinking  and  gossip  make  lofty  women?  Yet  you 
thrust  us  back  to  that !  You  ask  for  us  vapid,  stagnant  lives, 
and  then  expect  us  to  be  strong." 

He  folded  his  arms  across  his  broad  chest,  and  his  face 
wore  an  expression  of  pitying  tenderness. 

"  You  found  a  friend  !  " 

He  would  not  answer  her  tirade  in  kind. 

"  Well,"  she  said  haughtily,  "  and  what  of  him  ? " 

She  possessed  a  certain  inborn  chivalry  that  would  have 
made  her  defend  the  absent  to  the  latest  moment. 

"  We  have  known  each  other  in  a  casual  way  for  years.    So 
far  as  the  world  goes,  I  believe  Vaughan  Marchmont  stands 
fair,  but  I  think  him  a  dangerous  guide  for  a  woman.     Better 
remain  forever  in  ignorance,  than  be  enlightened  by  him." 
8 


3  70  Lucia :    Her  Prcblem. 

"  You  misunderstand  him — and  me  also,"  she  said  proudly, 
turning  away. 

"  No.  Listen  a  moment  farther.  He  is  agreeable,  fasci 
nating,  versed  in  all  the  elegant  ways  of  society,  cultured  and 
refined.  He  seeks  only  the  keenest  and  highest  pleasures. 
Common  or  vulgar  amusements  have  no  charm  for  him.  I 
have  seen  him  meet  with  a  young,  fresh  soul  that,  reaching  out 
for  guidance,  took  him  for  a  master.  He  opened  worlds  of 
beauty  and  delight,  he  led  it  through  flowery  mazes,  draining 
drop  by  drop  its  sweetness.  He  liked  the  power  to  sway,  with 
out  the  responsibility  of  answering  to  a  well-trained  conscience. 
And  when  he  wearied  of  the  blossom,  it  was  thrown  aside  and 
left  to  wither." 

"  He  could  not  be  so  selfish,  so  heartless,"  she  flung  out 
indignantly. 

"  And  if  he  were  true  ?  Child,  look  into  the  future.  Would 
it  be  wise  to  learn  the  lore  of  love  from  such  teaching  ?  Think 
of  another  claim  ! " 

She  faced  him  with  the  courage  of  innocence  and  self-es 
teem,  that  always  feels  itself  secure. 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  love,"  she  exclaimed  scornfully.  "  You 
pay  me  a  high  compliment,  indeed,  to  think  that  I  would  fail 
in  the  commonest  virtue  of  life — fidelity.  Do  I  not  know  where 
my  duty  lies,  think  you  ? " 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  said.  "  I  have  wounded  you  unnecessa 
rily.  But  you  seemed  to  me  like  a  little  sister,  too  precious  to 
be  brought  to  any  pang.  Forget  all  this  when  I  am  gone." 

He  opened  the  door  and  let  in  the  blaze  of  light,  the  swells 
of  music  and  laughter. 

"  We  will  not  need  the  walk  now,"  he  rejoined,  and  his  face 
was  turned  away. 

"  So  longs  the  moth  for  the  flame,"  he  said  sadly  to  him 
self. 

She  remembered  that  in  some  unconscious  way  she  was  left 
alone  with  a  group  of  ladies,  and  that  presently  Vaughan 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  171 

Marchraont  came.  There  was  a  peculiar,  questioning  glitter  in 
his  eyes,  from  which  she  shrank. 

"  You  did  not  dance  ?  "  he  said  abruptly. 

"  No.  My  cavalier  fancied  that  he  found  a  more  delightful 
entertainment." 

There  was  a  studied  carelessness  in  her  voice  that  did  not 
escape  Mr.  Marchmont,  and  he  felt  that  she  was  ill  at  ease. 
He  could  only  guess  that  she  had  spent  the  intervening  time 
with  Mr.  Rutherford,  or  her  husband,  but  they  had  left  Thorn- 
dike  with  a  group  of  gentlemen  over  their  wine,  so  the  last  sup 
position  was  hardly  probable. 

"  I  am  not  sure  but  Rutherford  has  serious  objections  to 
dancing,"  he  said  at  a  venture. 

She  flushed  and  bit  her  lip.  This  man  was  gifted  with  a 
peculiar  prescience. 

<%  He  asked  me  to  dance,"  she  replied  coldly,  "  but  we  talk 
ed  until  the  sets  were  formed.  I  do  not  believe  that  we  were 
missed." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  pointedly,  "  I  missed  you." 

She  was  in  no  mood  for  compliment,  and  received  this  si 
lently. 

So  they  sat  through  the  Lancers,  sustaining  a  kind  of  frag 
mentary  conversation,  the  greater  effort  on  his  part.  Now  and 
then  some  one  gave  them  a  sharp  glance  that  brought  the  blood 
to  her  face.  She  was  revolving  the  past  warning  in  her  mind, 
angry  at  Mr.  Rutherford,  and  ready  to  suspect  every  one  else. 

"  There  is  the  Esmeralda,"  he  said.     "  Will  you  try  it  ? " 

"  No,  I  am  too  tired." 

He  turned  abruptly.  The  beautiful  eyes  were  drooping 
and  listless,  and  the  scarlet  lips  wore  a  cold,  resolute  expres 
sion. 

"  But  I  have  your  promise,"  he  returned,  the  determination 
for  mastery  showing  in  his  voice. 

She  started  at  it.  Had  she  given  him  any  such  right  ? 
Did  she  like  the  power  ? 


172  Lucia:    Her  Problem. 

"  I  think  you  must  excuse  me  to-night ;  "  slowly,  and  in  a 
tone  that  she  meant  to  have  been  careless,  but  it  was  not. 

For  a  man  with  his  suavity  and  patience,  it  was  strange 
how  her  words  ruffled  him.  Interference  was  one  of  the  things 
that  he  could  illy  brook,  and  in  his  supreme  selfishness  he 
longed  to  crush  where  he  could  not  control.  He  might  have 
thought  that  Rutherford's  reign  ended  with  this  evening,  and 
that  at  some  other  time  he  would  be  able  to  gain  a  more  im 
portant  victory ;  but  he  felt  in  a  vague  way  that  she  had  been 
warned  against  him. 

"  Let  us  go  out  on  the  balcony,"  he  said.  "  It  is  warm 
here — and  you  are  looking  pale." 

She  was  really  glad  to  get  out  of  the  crowded  room.  On 
their  way  they  passed  Rutherford. 

His  grave,  penetrating  eye  appeared  to  challenge  her  very 
soul  in  that  brief  instant,  and  a  tender,  pitying,  yet  positive 
strength  seemed  to  invite  her  to  lean  upon  his  clear  and  pure 
judgment.  A  moment  ago  she  had  hated  him — why  this  sud 
den  revulsion  ? 

Marchmont  ground  his  white  teeth  together  in  jealous  rage. 
Careless  friendship  and  liking  to  be  amused,  grew  into  a 
deeper  and  more  determined  feeling. 

"  You  shall  rest  here ; "  he  said,  arranging  a  chair  for  her 
with  lover-like  devotion,  and  seating  himself  so  that  she  could 
not  be  easily  disturbed. 

The  night  wind  blew  fresh  about  her  fevered  and  throbbing 
brow.  She  glanced  in-doors  at  the  throng,  eagerly  intent  upon 
passing  pleasures,  and  then  at  the  calm,  still  heavens  above. 
Were  these  souls  fitting  themselves  for  any  of  the  grand  du 
ties  of  life  ?  Suppose  sickness  or  misfortune  came  upon  them, 
were  they  learning  to  be  patient  and  strong  in  such  a  school  ? 
Was  it  not  all  vanity  and  weariness  ! 

He  studied  her  face  by  the  faint  light  out  here.  She  car 
ried  her  pains,  pleasures,  and  perplexities  too  readily  upon  it, 
and  he  could  read  even  now  the  defence  she  was  meditating. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  173 

Every  moment  would  give  her  strength,  so  he  could  hardly 
speak  too  soon. 

"Come,"  he  said  in  his  most  winning  voice,  touching  her 
hand  with  the  softest  clasp ;  this  music  is  enough  to  inspire 
one." 

"  No,"  she  answered,  in  a  weary  yet  decisive  tone,  for  his 
words  had  somehow  jarred  upon  her  soul.  "Excuse  me.  I 
cannot  dance  again  to-night." 

"  I  shall  hold  you  to  your  promise." 

The  cool,  bland  voice,  made  her  shiver  with  distrust.  His 
eyes  were  filled  with  a  subtle  light,  and  his  lip  wreathed  itself 
in  smiles.  In  some  moods  this  might  have  prevailed  with  her, 
but  she  shrank  now  from  these  tokens  of  half  suppressed  pow 
er.  The  man  looked  dangerous  and  merciless  to  her. 

"  I  cannot,"  she  exclaimed,  with  the  old  girlish  spirit  and 
vehemence.  "  I  am  tired  !  sick  !  " 

Her  face  attested  it.  Curious,  flickering  lines  were  settling 
about  her  mouth,  and  gray,  wan  shadows  haunted  her  eyes, 
that  seemed  questioning  for  some  means  of  escape  like  a  wild, 
frightened  thing  brought  to  bay. 

He  had  seen  such  a  struggle  before,  and  knew  that  if  he 
could  keep  her  from  acting  upon  it  immediately,  the  victory 
would  still  be  his.  And  as  she  rose  he  barred  her  with  his 
arm,  fain  to  keep  her  in  her  shady  corner,  now  that  the  crowd 
was  surging  out  for  air. 

"  Let  me  go  !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  flashing  eyes.  "  How 
dare  you  ! " 

He  had  no  fancy  for  a  scene,  though  he  would  not  have 
hesitated  to  compromise  her.  But  she  threaded  her  way 
through  the  throng  and  disappeared,  while  some  one  stopped 
him  with  a  chance  word. 


174  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THROUGH      THE     SEA. 

LUCY  THORNDIKE  went  through  the  dancing  room, 
through  the  hall,  and  peered  in  among  the  card-players. 
He  was  not  there.  Turning,  she  confronted  Mr.  Rutherford. 

"Will  you  find  my  husband  and  bring  him  here  ?  "  she  ask 
ed,  sharply,  her  feeling  of  terror  and  longing  for  escape  over 
powering  all  else. 

He  went  without  a  word.  It  seemed  to  her  that  she  wait 
ed  an  age.  Her  limbs  smote  together  tremblingly,  and  her 
brain  was  in  a  whirl  of  pain  and  confusion. 

At  last  he  came.  The  keen,  far-reaching  part  of  her  soul 
took  in  the  whole  at  a  glance,  the  face  flushed  almost  to  pur 
ple,  the  eyes  bleared  and  with  a  stupid  stare. 

"  Warren,  will  you  take  me  home  ?  I  am  tired,  sick  of  the 
heat  and  glare.  And  it  is  late — nearly  two." 

He  gave  a  coarse  unmeaning  laugh. 

"  What  ails  you  ?"  he  asked. 

"  I  want  to  go  home ! " 

There  was  a  pitiful  entreaty  in  her  voice  that  would  have 
pricked  any  other  man  to  the  heart. 

"  By  Jove  !  Can't  you  go  then  ?  I'm  not  ready.  Why 
can't  you  go  back  to  your  dancing  ?  " 

Her  face  was  growing  frightfully  pale,  and  she  swayed  as 
if  she  would  have  fallen.  That  sobered  him  a  little. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  not  crossly,  but  in  a  careless  way  that  cut 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  175 

her  to  the  heart — "  you  had  better  return.  I'll  order  the  car 
riage.  You  won't  mind  being  alone  !  Hillo  !  There's  Ruth 
erford  ! " 

Mr.  Rutherford  acceded  to  his  host's  request.  He  handed 
Mrs.  Thorndike  into  the  carriage — saw  that  she  was  sufficient 
ly  protected  from  the  keen  air,  and  took  a  seat  opposite.  His 
manner  was  almost  fatherly. 

Neither  of  them  spoke  during  the  drive.  He  assisted  her 
out,  and  they  entered  the  library.  The  light  was  burning  low 
— the  grate  was  half  filled  with  ashes — books  and  papers  were 
scattered  about  the  table.  The  comfortless  look  struck  a  chill 
to  her  heart ;  or  perhaps  it  was  more  the  thought  of  the  fearful 
spiritual  desolation  that  surrounded  her. 

"  Shall  I  ring  for  your  maid  ? "  he  asked,  in  a  solicitous 
tone. 

"  No."  She  turned,  weakly,  throwing  off  her  shawl,  and 
made  as  if  she  would  have  spoken,  but  her  lips  moved  without 
sound. 

He  wanted  to  speak,  to  comfort,  but  he  remembered  his 
rash  interference  of  a  short  time  before,  and  gave  her  a  look 
of  wise  and  tender  pity. 

"  You  see  it  all ; "  she  said,  hoarsely,  with  strained  blue  lips, 
and  flickering  shadows  about  the  unnaturally  bright  eyes.  "  You 
see  the  life  before  me — perhaps  better  than  I,  for  you  under 
stand  more  of  the  world.  I  don't  know  whether  you  were  wise 
or  over  hasty,  but  you  have  thrust  my  friend  beyond  the  pale 
of  my  faith.  And  yet  it  was  only  friendship — believe  that  of 
me,  of  him." 

"  I  believe  it  of  you ; "  he  returned,  bowing  his  head. 

She  seated  herself,  and  leaned  her  clasped  hands  on  the 
table.  You  could  tell  how  strongly  her  feelings  were  working 
by  the  nervous  manner  in  which  the  ringers  interlaced  each 
other. 

"  But  it  is  dangerous.  You  are  right  enough  there.  Only 
what  shall  I  do,  shut  out  of  every  thing  ?  My  life  went  astray 


17G  Lucia,:  Her  Problem. 

at  the  beginning.  How  can  one  gather  the  confused  and  bro 
ken  threads  and  begin  anew  ? " 

Her  voice  smote  him  with  its  pitiful  entreaty. 

"  It  is  a  dark  and  thorny  way ; "  he  said,  slowly.  "  This 
was  why  it  seemed  better  to  my  finite  and  narrow  judgment, 
that  you  should  linger  in  the  paths  of  negative  content." 

"  It  is  too  late  ;  too  late  !  "  she  cried,  sharply. 

"  Yes,  it  is  too  late.  You  have  tasted  of  knowledge  even  if 
it  turn  to  bitter  ashes  upon  your  lips.  But  why  should  it.  Is 
not  your  soul  brave  enough  to  dare  it  ? " 

"What  shall  I  do?" 

Her  voice  was  so  earnest,  and  her  pale  face  warmed  with 
an  expression  of  eager  interest. 

If  he  could  guide  her !  If  he  dared  to  take  this  trembling 
soul  into  his  care  as  a  brother  might.  If  her  husband — but 
counting  upon  him  was  useless — so  she  must  fight  her  way  up 
to  the  light  alone.  He  experienced  the  most  profound  pity 
for  har. 

"  What  shall  I  do  ? " 

Her  eyes  were  strained  and  glittering.  It  seemed  to  her  as 
if  her  soul  were  vibrating  between  two  unknown  shores. 

"  It  is  a  hard  matter  to  advise.  A  mother  or  sister  might 
guide  you  aright,  or  a  true  and  noble  friend,  but  I  think  you 
will  find  that  men  are  apt  to  bring  in  themselves,  and  that  the 
simplest  regard  might  warm  into  a  snare  and  perplexity.  Your 
first  duty  will  always  be  your  husband." 

She,  shivered  visibly.  And  yet  once  she  was  glad  to  have 
him  take  her  out  of  a  life  that  looked  so  much  more  dreary 
than  this.  But  it  was  a  farce  to  say  that  she  had  ever  truly 
loved  him  !  He  had  never  been  positively  unkind — but  when 
she  contrasted  him  with  those  she  had  come  to  know  and  ad 
mire  now,  her  whole  soul  was  filled  with  disgust. 

"And  after  that  some  paths  are  open,  which,  if  rightly  fol 
lowed,  may  be  made  to  yield  much  satisfaction.  I  think  you 
women  are  too  impatient  for  results.  If  you  cannot  make  your 


Lucia:   Her  Problem  177 

lives  perfect  and  harmonious  in  a  few  months,  you  give  up  in 
despair." 

She  answered  with  a  vague,  dreary  smile  of  assent. 

"  The  soul  finds  many  paths  of  enjoyment.  Literature  and 
music  are  open  to  you  ;  and  highest  of  all,  that  of  ministering  to 
others  who  are  in  trouble  and  suffering." 

"  I  don't  know  any ; "  she  said,  vehemently.  "  I  sometimes 
wonder,  if  in  all  the  length  and  breadth  of  God's  earth  there  is 
so  miserable  a  creature  as  I  !  " 

"  You,  with  your  youth  and  health,  and  your  many  blessings ! 
Ah,  you  know  little  of  distress,  and  grief,  and  shame,  and  the 
black  host  of  evils  that  follow  in  the  wake  of  some  lives ! " 

She  was  abashed  by  his  earnestness. 

"  You  can  raise  yourself  in  the  scale  of  humanity.  You  can 
cultivate  true  and  noble  aims,  you  can  keep  your  soul  pure  and 
lofty — and  when  you  tire  of  the  frivolous  pleasure  of  society, 
here  will  be  a  living  fountain  at  which  you  may  refresh  your 
thirsty  lips.  Gratification  of  every  passing  desire  is  not  always 
the  way  to  happiness,  as  you  will  find.  But  it  seems  to  me,  at 
times,  that  the  consciousness  of  acting  from  pure  and  high  mo 
tives,  proves  more  satisfactory  than  mere  pleasure." 

Something  in  his  look  and  tone  roused  an  undercurrent  of 
immortal  longing  in  the  keen  yet  deep-seated  fibres  of  her  soul. 
A  wild  impulse  to  cling  to  him  as  to  a  rock  of  safety  whose 
foundation  no  tempest  or  perpetual  surges  can  overthrow, 
sprang  up  within  her.  It  seemed  as  if  a  woman  might  blossom 
into  perfection  with  such  a  man  for  her  guide  and  stay. 

He  struck  the  deepest  answering  chord  in  her  nature.  Had 
she  been  free  it  would  have  proved  a  pure  and  irrevocable  love  ; 
but  she  was  not  likely  to  think  of  this  in  connection  with  him. 
She  felt  stronger  for  the  glance  of  those  open,  honest  eyes. 

"  I  think  you  are  right  in  many  things,"  she  said  in  a  low 

voice,  that  cost  her  a  strong  effort  to  steady.     "  I  have  devoted 

too  much  of  my  time  and  energy  to  pleasure.     I  have  fretted 

against  the  bars  to  perfect  happiness,  forgetting  whose  hand 

8* 


178  Lucia:   Her  Prollcm. 

placed  them  there.  My  soul  was  dark  and  narrow  and  ill- 
guided  when  I  chose  my  destiny,  but  it  was  a  free  choice. 
I  see  my  duty  clearer.  Pray  that  I  may  have  strength  to  per 
form  it." 

"  I  will.  I  can  trust  you  in  God's  hands.  He  hears  those 
who  cry  to  Him  out  of  deepest  darkness  and  despair." 

She  rose,  and  obeying  her  first  impulse  gave  him  her  hand. 

"  Good-night,"  she  said  falteringly.  "  I  shall  remember  this 
when  you  are  away." 

"  May  God  watch  over  you  and  keep  you,"  he  returned 
fervently.  "When  you  find  the  way  hard,  be  strong  of  soul. 
The  good  soldier  presses  ever  forward,  you  know." 

She  turned  then  and  went  to  her  room.  Tired  she  was ; 
nay,  her  physical  strength  seemed  utterly  exhausted,  but  the 
fire  and  inward  resolution  shot  up  into  a  steady  flame.  She 
would  make  her  life  of  more  worth  than  the  course  of  sensuous 
beauty  and  delight  hinted  at  by  Mr.  Marchmont,  and  indol 
ently  followed  by  herself  for  the  last  few  weeks,  could  ever  bring. 
There  was  something  nobler. 

And  then  she  shuddered  with  a  sickening  despair.  The 
love  that  perfected  and  hallowed  all  true  existences,  must  for 
ever  stand  apart  from  hers.  She  did  not  deceive  herself  by 
thinking  that  she  could  raise  her  husband  to  any  higher  sphere. 
His  passions  were  all  of  the  earth,  earthy.  Love  of  money, 
applause,  and  position,  common  endearments  when  he  felt 
good-natured,  and  if  cross  or  unlucky  in  any  move,  his  wife 
was  sure  to  feel  it.  Ah,  how  blind  she  had  been  in  those  days 
when  he  seemed  a  hero  ! 

He  came  in  an  hour  or  two  later,  stumbling  over  the  floor 
with  an  unsteady  step.  What  if  to  the  rest  he  should  add  the 
horrible  vice  of  drunkenness  !  She  lay  breathless  in  a  spasm 
of  agony.  Could  she  do  nothing  for  him  ? 

Some  traces  of  her  vigil  were  visible  the  next  morning. 
Paul  Rutherford  noted  them  in  silence.  A  pang  tore  his  heart 
as  he  thought  of  her  fighting  the  hard  battle  without  even  a 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  179 

word  of  commendation.  For  though  her  husband  might  be 
pitiless  to  any  open  sin,  after  the  manner  of  such  men,  he 
could  never  understand  the  temptation,  the  struggle,  and  the 
victory  which  ennobles  some  natures.  To  escape  the  danger 
would  be  no  great  virtue  in  his  eyes,  for  the  subtler  forms  of 
allurement  were  not  palpable  to  his  dull  understanding. 

Their  parting  words  were  uttered  with  a  quiet  dignity  on 
her  side,  and  a  sadness  on  his  which  touched  her.  A  vague 
impression  haunted  both  minds  that  it  might  be  for  the  last 
time. 

Mr.  Thorndike  was  still  hilarious,  having  hardly  recovered 
from  his  last  night's  revel.  And  it  must  be  confessed  that  he 
was  not  sorry  at  the  prospect  of  Mr.  Rutherford's  long  absence. 
He  dreaded  to  have  the  clear  eyes  pounce  down  upon  any 
scheme  that  was  not  quite  perfected,  or  where  a  slight  flaw 
could  be  detected.  Marchmont  was  not  half  as  likely  to  keep 
him  in  check. 

Far  days  afterward  Lucy  felt  languid  and  irresolute.  The 
main  business  of  life  seemed  to  go  on  as  usual,  but  its  aspect 
had  changed  for  her.  She  heard  a  little  gossip  about  Mr. 
Marchmont  and  Miss  Ronald  when  Mrs.  Graham  called  to  ex 
press  her  solicitude  at  Mrs.  Thorndike's  state  of  health.  She 
almost  wished  that  it  might  be  true. 

And  since  she  was  neither  well  nor  ill,  Lucy  excused  her 
self  from  gayeties.  They  had  lost  their  flavor.  Mr.  March 
mont  held  aloof  in  a  curious  state  of  mind.  He  meant  that 
she  should  summon  him  to  her  side  again  ;  but  there  seemed 
small  probability. 

The  season  was  very  early.  By  the  middle  of  May  the 
days  were  long  and  warm,  and  the  dense  smoke  from  the  fac 
tories  insupportable.  Mrs.  Wilder  held  herself  in  readiness 
for  an  invitation  to  accompany  her  cousin's  wife  to  some 
fashionable  resort.  But  it  never  came.  Lucy  went  to  a  quiet 
little  sea-side  place  not  many  miles  distant.  Her  husband 
could  come  whenever  he  chose.  She  wanted  to  do  nothing  to 


180  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

widen  the  breach  between  them.  Some  new  and  finer  ideas  had 
crept  into  her  mind  concerning  her  duty  towards  him.  When 
he  was  away  she  made  noble  resolves,  but  in  his  presence  they 
appeared  so  utterly  impracticable.  And  then  she  remembered 
with  a  discouraged  feeling  how  her  earlier  efforts  had  been 
frustrated  by  his  indifference. 

With  herself  she  began  at  the  foundation.  She  was  a  severe 
censor — as  youth  generally  is  when  it  takes  up  a  theory  in 
earnest.  Her  littleness,  her  vanity,  her  wretched  indecision, 
her  love  of  approbation,  all  passed  in  stern  review  before  her. 

It  was  a  crude  and  spasmodic  effort.  Often  did  she  feel 
inclined  to  give  it  up  and  return  to  the  old  careless  life,  but  it 
seemed  as  if  that  had  rolled  away  forever. 

I  think  she  did  miss  Mr.  Marchmont's  refined  and  delicate 
attentions.  The  gayeties  were  of  so  mild  a  type  that  she  did 
not  need  to  dread  them.  There  were  some  pleasant  people 
here — two  or  three  elderly,  motherly  ladies,  but  she  was  in  no 
mood  to  tone  herself  to  the  insipidities  of  life.  She  needed 
freshness  and  strength,  the  two  things  that  seemed  to  have 
gone  out  of  her  world,  leaving  the  dreariness  that  it  was  so 
hard  to  overcome.  One  week  she  thought  she  gained  a  little 
in  steadiness  of  endeavor,  and  the  next  it  was  lost 

Yet  unconsciously  her  communings  with  nature  did  her 
good.  She  was  learning  to  make  some  distinctions  that  would 
stand  her  in  good  stead  later,  in  the  time  of  sorer  trouble  and 
need.  She  returned  home  much  improved  in  health. 

Mr.  Marchmont  had  just  left  Dedham  to  attend  to  some 
important  business  connections.  The  rest  of  the  little  world 
seemed  going  on  the  same  as  ever.  Miss  Ronald  had  capti 
vated  a  dashing  major  of  the  regular  army,  and  was  preparing 
to  go  off  to  the  frontier.  Mrs.  Glenfield  and  some  of  the  la 
dies  made  their  regular  calls.  Lucy  went  home  and  took  tea 
with  her  father  and  Rachel,  and  there  outward  excitement  ap 
peared  to  stop. 

It  was  a  very  dull  autumn.     The  air  was  rife  with  uncom- 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  181 

fortable  rumors  and  surmisings.  Two  or  three  large  houses 
went  down  with  a  crash,  and  dragged  the  smaller  ones  in  their 
wake.  Mr.  Garth  shook  his  head  mysteriously,  and  bemoaned 
his  son-in-law's  extravagance  to  Rachel. 

"  It  would  have  been  different  if  he  had  chosen  a  prudent 
wife,"  she  would  return  with  a  sigh. 

Lucy  felt  the  change  in  her  husband.  He  was  growing 
morose  and  impatient ;  he  flew  into  unreasonable  passions  at 
the  smallest  trifles.  Well  for  her  that  she  had  become  in  some 
degree  weaned  from  society.  She  could  have  her  old  dresses 
made  over  in  perfect  security,  she  could  sit  at  home  and  prac 
tice  her  music,  her  only  solace  now,  and  not  be  disturbed  by 
the  comments  of  her  neighbors. 

She  might  have  heard  the  whispers,  but  all  Dedham 
thought  she  was  holding  haughtily  aloof.  Heads  were  nodded 
and  significant  winks  exchanged.  There  was  nothing  do 
ing  at  the  mines,  the  factories  were  discharging  their  work 
men  and  contracting  daily.  The  prospect  of  a  hard  winter 
loomed  threateningly  on  the  horizon  of  the  little  town. 

The  crash  came  at  last.  Warren  Thorndike  returned  home 
one  night  much  worse  for  the  liquor  he  had  taken  to  keep  up 
his  spirits,  and  announced  to  his  wife  in  tones  of  derision  that 
her  grand  reign  was  over.  No  more  parties  and  extrava 
gant  dinners,  no  more  diamonds  and  flaunting  silks.  She  must 
give  up  her  servants  and  come  down  to  the  level  of  other  wo 
men  ! 

She  glanced  at  him  in  utter  incredulity  and  amazement, 
not  taking  in  the  fact  at  all.  Was  it  not  some  cruel  taunt  of 
an  overheated  brain  ? 

"Well,"  he  shouted  coarsely,  bringing  his  fist  down  upon 
the  table  with  a  giant's  strength,  "don't  you  understand? 
You've  flown  high  my  lady,  but  it's  all  come  to  an  end.  I'm 
ruined — do  you  hear  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Warren  !  "  she  exclaimed,  obeying  her  first  impulse. 
"  If  you  had  not  undertaken  so  many  things  !  The  coal  mine 


182  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

would  have  been  enough,  or  the  iron — or  even  if  you  had  gone 
on  with  father — " 

"  Much  you  know  about  it,"  he  returned  angrily.  "  All 
that  you  women  care  for  is  fine  clothes  and  parties,  but  there's 
no  more  for  you  !  And  I  want  to  know  if  you're  any  better 
than  your  sister  !  " 

"  I  never  said  that  I  was,"  and  the  fire  flashed  into  Lucy's 
eyes.  "And  the  extravagance  has  not  been  altogether  mine. 
You  invited  your  friends  here  and  desired  that  they  should  be 
handsomely  entertained.  I  only  did  your  bidding." 

"  And  you  were  glad  enough  to  come  and  live  here  in 
grand  style,  to  make  a  show  and  flaunt  round  in  your  car 
riage  !  " 

Lucy  Thorndike  glanced  at  her  husband  in  amaze.  She 
had  been  willing  enough  to  share  the  good  things  of  this  life, 
but  they  had  been  gifts  from  him  rather  than  any  demands  on 
her  part.  And  now  that  he  should  taunt  her  with  it !  The  in 
dignant  blood  rushed  hotly  through  her  veins. 

Yet  he  was  not  master  of  himself,  she  saw  that  with  a  feel 
ing  of  shame.  Recrimination  would  only  make,  the  matter 
worse. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  your  losses,  Warren,"  she  said,  choking 
down  the  anger  and  scorn  that  would  rise.  "  And  whatever 
sacrifice  you  require  of  me  shall  be  cheerfully  made." 

Her  kind  tone  partially  disarmed  him. 

"  We  must  give  up  the  house,"  he  returned  doggedly 

"  Is  it  so  bad  as  that  ?  Is  it  a  total  loss  ?  And  oh,  Warren, 
Mr.  Rutherford  is  away  !  " 

She  thought  of  that  with  alarm. 

"  Well,  is  it  any  worse  for  him  than  for  the  rest  ? " 

"  Will  he  lose  all  that  he  has  invested  ?  " 

"  The  whole  thing  is  flat,  I  tell  you.  Twenty  cents  on  a 
dollar  couldn't  be  squeezed  out  of  it  !  " 

"  And  you  know  that  he  invested  the  money  of  some  ward. 
It's  not  altogether  his  own  loss.  You  were  so  sure,  Warren  !  " 


LuGia:  Her  Problem.  183 

There  was  a  strange,  eager  light  in  her  face,  as  if  she  wish 
ed  to  save  Mr.  Rutherford  from  the  wreck ;  at  least,  so  her 
husband  interpreted  it.  A  hateful,  smouldering  jealousy  kin 
dled  in  his  soul. 

"  So,  that  is  it  ? "  he  sneered  coarsely.  "  You  can  bewail 
his  loss.  Perhaps  your  attractions  kept  him  hanging  here, 
with  his  lordly  ways  and  fine  manners.  I  never  did  like  the 
man.  And  you — " 

"  Don't  say  one  more  such  word  to  me  ; "  and  Lucy  Thorn- 
dike  confronted  her  husband  in  fearless  innocence,  drawing 
her  slender  figure  to  its  fullest  height.  "  He  was  your  guest. 
He  came  by  your  invitation,  and  to  the  very  last  he  was  a  true 
and  loyal  gentleman !  He  would  scorn  to  utter  one  wrong 
word  to  any  woman.  And  if  I  regret  his  loss  it  is  that  it  seems 
so  like  treachery  when  our  hospitality  has  been  urged  upon 
him." 

The  tone  and  manner  cowered  Warren  Thorndike.  The 
truth  that  had  been  dimly  forcing  its  way  into  his  soul  by  slow 
degrees  seemed  to  stamp  itself  ineffaceably  at  that  moment. 
This  woman  was  not  on  his  level,  and  never  had  been.  She 
looked  so  simple  standing  there  before  him,  her  soft  dark  dress 
clinging  about  her  graceful  figure,  a  white  rose  in  her  hair,  and 
a  cluster  of  geranium  leaves  at  her  throat,  that  he  could  find 
no  fault  with  her  attire.  But  the  steadfast  and  almost  scorn 
ful  eyes,  the  firm  mouth,  the  flush  of  pride  and  indignation 
angered  him  beyond  control.  She  was  his  wife,  and  she  should 
not  be  lavishing  her  pity  upon  other  men. 

He  told  her  so  in  not  very  choice  language ;  but  before  he 
had  finished  his  tirade  she  swept  from  the  room  and  left  him 
alone  in  his  unreasonable  resentment. 

He  had  dared  to  insinuate  that  this  man  had  been  swayed 
by  base  and  selfish  motives  !  Her  heart  swelled  at  the  wrong, 
and  hot,  passionate  tears  filled  her  eyes.  It  was  well,  perhaps, 
that  he  was  not  here. 

But  oh,  the  forlorn  and  miserable  life  that  stretched  out  be- 


184  Lucia  :   Her  Problem. 

fore  her !  Still  the  clear  low  voice  rang  through  her  brain, 
just  as  when  it  had  said — 

"  Your  first  duty  is  toward  your  husband." 

Yes,  it  was  true.  And  now  it  was  time  to  practice  the 
lessons  so  sternly  taught  her. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  185 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

IN   THE    DESERT. 

DEDHAM  was  alive  with  gossip  for  the  next  fortnight. 
Mr.  Thorndike's  downfall  was  commented  upon  in  every 
imaginable  manner.  There  were  meetings  of  directors  and 
stockholders,  and  censure  flowed  freely. 

And  yet  it  could  hardly  be  said  with  strict  truth  that  War 
ren  Thorndike  was  more  to  blame  than  many  of  the  others. 
There  was  money  in  the  undeveloped  resources  of  both  mines, 
but  these  panic-stricken  men  thought  little  of  that  now.  Those 
who  had  been  induced  to  lend  their  money  in  the  prospect  of 
large  dividends  were  clamorous  for  half  or  quarter.  Like  the 
majority  of  the  great  accidents  of  life,  most  of  those  engaged 
lost  their  presence  of  mind  and  rushed  madly  about  for  any 
remedy. 

In  one  sense  it  proved  the  salvation  of  Warren  Thorndike. 
The  shock  sobered  him  effectually.  He  had  a  good,  strong, 
keen  brain,  and  a  sanguine  temperament.  On  Marchmont's 
return  the  two  went  over  the  matter  with  patient  carefulness. 
So  unlike  in  nearly  every  respect,  they  still  met  on  the  strong 
vantage  ground  of  self.  And  when  Marchmont  said,  "  There 
a  fortune  in  it  still,  if  matters  could  only  be  tided  over,"  Thorn- 
dike  took  heart. 

The  coal  speculation  was  disposed  of  advantageously,  con 
sidering  all  things.  Marchmont  came  forward  with  considerable 
ready  money  and  bought  up  the  iron  stock  for  almost  nothing. 
Warren  Thorndike  sold  his  grand  house  for  a  large  advance 


18 G  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

on  its  first  cost,  and  managed  to  come  out  of  the  general  wreck 
with  tolerably  clean  hands.  He  was  not  dishonest  nor  a  vil 
lain.  Lucy  made  her  part  of  the  sacrifice  cheerfully.  She 
even  gave  up  her  diamonds,  for  somehow  they  seemed  hateful 
in  her  sight. 

The  next  important  question  was  what  they  should  do  with 
themselves. 

"  I  am  not  sure  but  boarding  will  be  cheaper,"  Lucy  had 
said,  and  Warren  repeated  this  to  Rachel  Garth. 

There  had  sprung  up  a  strange  sympathy  between  Warren 
Thorndike  and  his  narrow-minded  but  clear-sighted  sister-in- 
law.  She  had  taken  it  for  granted  that  he  meant  to  be  scrupu 
lously  honest  and  pay  his  debts  to  the  utmost,  and  her  faith  in 
him  when  he  was  an  object  of  general  condemnation  had  given 
her  a  stronghold  over  him.  He  fell  into  the  habit  of  coming 
to  her  for  advice ;  and  when  events  turned  out  more  prosperously 
than  any  one  had  expected,  her  pride  and  triumph  for  him  had 
proved  very  flattering. 

He  had  repeated  Lucy's  remark  for  her  approbation  or 
otherwise. 

"  A  very  sensible  resolre  on  her  part,"  commented  Rachel. 
"  She  knows  nothing  about  housekeeping,  and  you  have  had 
enough  of  senrants'  wastefulness." 

She  discussed  the  matter  with  her  father.  "We  might 
take  them  in  here  for  the  present,"  she  said. 

Mr.  Garth  did  not  object.  By  slow  degrees  Rachel  had 
come  to  be  the  ruling  spirit  of  the  small  household.  He  would 
not  have  believed  that  he  was  failing  in  strength  or  energy,  but 
the  years  began  to  tell  upon  him. 

Rachel  made  the  bargain  with  Mr.  Thorndike.  She  fan 
cied  in  her  narrow  but  conscientious  way  that  she  meant  to  do 
the  best  for  them  both.  With  a  fair  chance  Warren  might  re 
trieve  the  past.  She  would  exercise  some  supervision  over 
Lucy  and  keep  her  from  rushing  into  imprudent  excesses. 
Their  house  was  large  enough  for  both. 


Lucia  :   Her  Problem.  187 

It  had  been  a  dreary  time  to  Lucy.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Glenfield 
had  come  with  the  usual  condolence.  Indeed,  the  lady  had 
improved  the  occasion  as  she  did  every  one.  It  could  never 
be  brought  against  her  that  she  turned  away  from  the  poor 
and  unfortunate. 

Yet  the  well-meaning  platitudes  roused  a  feeling  of  bitter 
defiance  in  Lucy's  heart.  What  did  this  woman's  complacent 
soul  know  of  the  keen  stings  of  fate  ? 

She  could  blame  none  of  her  old  friends  for  neglect.  Some 
came  from  curiosity — some  from  the  pleasure  of  triumph. 
They  questioned  her  about  the  future,  mildly  regretted  the  past, 
and  prepared  to  drop  her  out  of  their  books  until  she  could 
reign  again  in  purple  and  fine  linen. 

"  It  is  the  way  of  the  world ; "  Mr.  Marchmont  said,  sitting 
out  one  of  these  fashionable  calls. 

Circumstances  had  brought  them  together  again.  He 
had  been  floating  around  Dedham  society  a  little,  but  he  had 
not  found  her  peer.  He  had  been  exceedingly  dissatisfied 
with  the  abrupt  termination  of  their  friendship,  and  was  anxious 
to  renew  it. 

"  I  believe  there  is  a  very  small  amount  of  true  sympathy 
in  the  world,"  she  made  answer,  drearily. 

"  It  is  so  rare  that  it  is  often  classed  with  the  counterfeit." 

"  And  so  one  comes  to  self-reliance,  which  after  all,  may 
be  the  best." 

"  And  yet  do  you  harden  yourself  against  the  world  ?  Does 
it  not  leave  a  sore  feeling  in  the  depths  of  your  heart  ? " 

She  glanced  up  with  a  faint  flush. 

"  I  was  your  friend  once.  I  will  not  ask  you  to  explain  the 
misconception  that  came  between,  for  I  think  it  was  through 
the  influence  of  another.  But  if  I  can  be  of  any  service  in  the 
future,  command  me." 

He  rose  and  left  her  at  that,  and  she  remembered,  as  he 
meant  she  should,  the  pleading  light  in  his  eyes,  and  the  per 
suasive  inflection  of  his  voice. 


188  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

He  had  elected  to  remain  in  Dedham  a  year  or  two  longer ; 
for  he  felt  confident  that  there  was  some  money  to  be  made. 
He  disliked  business  of  any  kind,  although  he  had  a  natural 
aptitude  for  it ;  but  he  did  mean  to  secure  wealth  with  this 
stroke. 

Warren  Thorndike  informed  his  wife  of  his  plans.  They 
would  go  home  for  the  present,  as  it  was  almost  impossible  for 
them  to  tell  now  what  their  future  would  bring.  He  had  never 
been  in  the  habit  of  consulting  her  to  any  extent,  and  was  sur-, 
prised  when  she  replied — 

"  You  might  have  inquired '  whether  such  an  arrangement 
would  be  pleasant  for  me." 

He  stared  in  blank  wonder. 

"  Why  should  it  not  be  pleasant  ? "  he  asked. 

"  I  married  you  to  escape  them ; "  was  on  her  tongue,  but 
she  did  not  utter  the  sad  truth  because  she  felt  it  too  true.  He 
had  taken  her  part  against  them  then — had  he  forgotten  all  the 
circumstances  ? 

Human  nature  is  complex  and  inconsistent.  He  had  en 
joyed  his  triumph  over  the  Garths  at  the  time  of  the  marriage  ; 
but  now  that  it  was  to  his  interest,  he  was  quite  willing  to  ac 
cept  any  favors  at  their  hands.  He  had  none  of  the  fine,  sen 
sitive  pride  that  characterized  her. 

"  Well,  we  can  try  it ; "  she  said,  drearily. 

"  I'm  sure  it's  kind  of  Rachel." 

He  glanced  sharply  at  her.  She  found  now  that  she  sel 
dom  gained  the  victory  in  these  wordy  contests.  He  had 
grown  very  masterly  in  argument,  and  fallen  into  the  habit  of 
treating  her  as  if  she  were  of  no  special  importance. 

She  went  home  to  talk  the  matter  over  with  Rachel — who 
was  quite  condescending. 

"I  shall  furnish  my  own  rooms,"  she  said,  "and  I 
wish  to  bring  my  piano.  There  are  some  pictures  and 
articles  that  were  not  salable,  and  others  for  which  I  really 
care." 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  189 

"There's  plenty  of  room  I'm  sure;"  was  the  elder  sister's 
grim  retort. 

Lucy  lingered  until  her  father  came  in.  He  stooped  in  the 
shoulders,  and  was  a  good  deal  wrinkled.  Somehow  this  show 
ed  more  plainly  to-day  than  ever  before. 

Contact  with  the  world,  through  the  medium  of  his  son-in- 
law,  had  softened  some  of  Mr.  Garth's  asperities.  Perhaps, 
too,  since  his  daughter  had  come  to  have  a  distinct  individual 
ity  of  her  own,  he  had  respected  her  the  more. 

"  I  am  coming  home  again,  it  seems ; "  and  she  took  his 
hand  in  both  of  her  soft  palms. 

"  Then  you've  decided  ? "  with  a  wistful  glance. 

"  I  believe  my  decision  was  not  needed  ;  "  with  a  hard  look 
at  Rachel. 

"  It  will  be  a  great  change,  to  be  sure,"  eyeing  the  plain 
and  bare-looking  room. 

"  I  shall  bring  some  of  my  brightness,"  she  said  with  a 
smile.  "  You  won't  object  to  it  now.  We  are  all  wiser  than 
we  were  in  that  old  time." 

In  his  heart  he  thanked  her  for  the  words  and  look. 

Yet  Lucy  Thorndike  shed  many  bitter  tears  at  the  prospect 
of  leaving  her  luxurious  home.  The  diamonds,  rich  dresses, 
and  the  parties  would  not  be  so  great  a  sacrifice.  She  had  test 
ed  them,  and  knew  their  hollowness  and  vanity.  But  the  beauty 
and  grace,  the  large  rooms  and  wide  halls,  the  flowers,  the  el 
egance  and  order,  the  ease  and  home  feeling,  could  not  be  hers 
in  a  house  in  which  her  sister  was  mistress. 

Rachel  stood  aghast  at  the  loads  of  things  that  were  sent. 
She  ventured  to  remonstrate  a  little. 

"  Then  we'll  burn  them  up,"  declared  Lucy  in  her  desperate 
fashion.  "  As  well  as  to  sell  them  for  nothing  !  " 

Such  a  step  would  have  been  next  to  the  waste  of  buying 
them,  and  Rachel  was  silent. 

The  change  and  the  excitement  roused  Lucy.  She  set  her 
self  vigorously  to  work,  and  absolutely  transformed  the  old 


190  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

house.  Up  stairs  she  had  a  sleeping  and  a  sitting-room,  and 
though  they  were  dingy,  low-ceiled  places,  she  made  them  little 
nests  of  beauty. 

Some  of  her  friends  followed  her  even  here,  and  old  ac 
quaintances  dropped  in,  rather  curious  to  see  if  she  fitted  the 
niche.  Lucy  was  too  young  and  buoyant  of  soul  not  to  feel  a 
stir  of  pleasureable  emotion  at  being  thus  made  somewhat  of  a 
heroine. 

"  In  my  opinion  it's  a  good  thing,"  said  Miss  Kip,  whom 
three  years  had  made  sharper  of  feature  and  sharper  of  tongue. 
And  then  she  had  never  cordially  forgiven  Lucy  Garth  for 
spoiling  her  plans. 

"  She  was  going  it  with  a  high  hand  !  A  fine  thing  to  ruin 
her  husband  in  less  than  three  years.  If  he'd  had  his  eyes 
about  him,  he'd  never  a'  married  her  !  " 

Of  Mr.  Thorndike's  extravagance  no  one  complained.  His 
ambitious  schemes  that  had  overreached  themselves,  his  almost 
prodigal  use  of  money  that  was  to  bring  him  rich  returns  was 
not  to  blame  for  the  failure  ! 

Men  and  women  denounced  Mrs.  Thorndike's  wasteful 
ness,  though  perhaps  her  own  sex  were  the  most  unsparing 
and  bitter.  She  felt  the  injustice  of  it  keenly.  How  could 
she  have  helped  or  hindered?  Perhaps  such  a  woman  as  Ra 
chel  might  have  had  some  influence,  but  hers  had  ever  been  a 
mere  straw. 

And  so  by  midwinter  Lucy  was  settled  in  her  new  home, 
the  excitement  pretty  well  over.  She  had  insisted  upon  her 
position  being  well  defined,  for  she  knew  there  was  not  much 
to  expect  from  Rachel's  sympathy.  Her  rooms  were  her  cas 
tle.  She  came  and  went  as  she  liked,  entertained  her  friends, 
read,  studied,  or  devoted  her  hours  to  music.  Any  thing  to  keep 
from  dwelling  too  keenly  upon  the  dreary  life  before  her. 

Mr.  Marchmont  rendered  himself  a  welcome  visitor. 

Mr.  Garth  admired  the  hearty  manner  in  which  he  had 
made  a  good  fight  against  misfortune  ;  Mr.  Thorndike  had 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  191 

come  to  depend  upon  him  for  a  resolute  carrying  out  of  their 
plans.  Rachel  tolerated  him.  She  watched  her  sister  nar 
rowly,  and  if  Lucy  had  been  betrayed  into  any  special  admira 
tion  of  this  handsome  man,  it  would  have  proved  the  signal  for 
her  disapprobation. 

If  Lucy  had  been  desperately  in  love,  neither  she  nor  he 
would  have  proclaimed  their  secret  upon  the  house-tops.  He 
brought  her  an  occasional  book  or  piece  of  music,  and  some 
times  sang  with  her,  but  never  when  they  were  alone.  What 
Rachel  did  not  see  was  the  tender,  unspoken  but  respectful 
sympathy,  the  accidental  meetings  elsewhere,  and  the  infre 
quent  but  always  pleasant  walks. 

Perhaps  if  he  had  known  that  he  was  never  again  to  exer 
cise  his  olden  fascination  over  Lucy  Thorndike,  he  would  hardly 
have  striven  so  ceaselessly.  There  had  come  a  higher  ideal  of 
manly  perfection  to  her,  and  the  sorrowful  fact,  in  that  it  was  too 
late,  steeled  her  heart  against  all  lesser  temptations.  He  was 
a  Hnk  between  this  hard  and  stinted  existence  and  the  world 
of  refinement  and  culture  for  which  she  longed.  She  knew 
now  that  money  could  not  always  bring  it,  and  she  felt  that  a 
cruel  fate  had  shut  her  out.  Of  what  avail,  she  asked  herself 
daily,  was  the  fitting  her  soul  for  this  rare  possibility  that 
might  never  come  ! 

And  so  she  listened  to  him  as  one  sometimes  does  to  a 
strain  of  music  that  must  presently  vanish.  It  was  a  pleasant 
break  among  these  commonplaces  in  which  her  life  was  set ;  a 
ray  of  light  which  served  to  keep  endeavor  alive. 

He  had  begun  the  acquaintance  simply  from  a  spirit  of  in 
dolence  and  a  desire  to  be  amused.  When  he  had  roused  her 
a  little,  and  saw  the  fine  soul  ready  to  leap  out  of  bondage,  it 
became  the  love  of  power.  If  she  had  yielded  and  paid  him 
the  homage  that  so  many  women  gave,  he  would  have  been 
satisfied,  and  soon  tired  of  the  victory.  Then  had  come  the 
break  between  them.  He  fancied  that  she  understood  him, 
that  she  had  been  warned,  indeed,  and  hating  the  one  who  had 


192  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

thus  secretly  baffled  him,  he  determined  some  day  to  regain 
what  he  had  lost. 

Was  it  the  misfortune  that  had  worked  this  change  in  her  ? 
Instead  of  the  simply  charming  woman  that  she  had  been  be 
fore,  she  was  surrounded  now  with  an  indefinable  grace  and 
strength.  As  if  from  the  old,  eager,  undisciplined  girlishness  a 
higher  womanhood  had  dawned.  He  was  not  insensible  to 
purity  and  goodness,  and  he  experienced  a  kind  of  pitiful  re 
gret  that  it  should  be  wasted  upon  such  a  being  as  Warren 
Thorndike. 

"  Why  did  he  not  marry  the  other  one,"  he  mused,  see 
ing  them  together.  "  What  soul  has  he  for  any  thing  beyond 
money ! " 

And  as  he  watched  more  closely,  he  saw  what  he  fancied 
others  had  failed  to  note.  Week  by  week  Warren  Thorndike 
was  yielding  to  a  stronger  influence  than  any  his  wife  possess 
ed.  I  am  not  sure  but  that  she  might  still  have  made  her  beauty 
a  foil ;  had  she  cared,  but  he  had  outgrown  its  first  charm,  and 
her  soul  had  gone  so  far  beyond  his  that  he  had  come  to  have 
an  uneasy  sensation  regarding  her. 

The  man,  too,  was  changing  rapidly.  From  the  free  and 
lavish  manner  of  the  last  three  years  he  made  the  not  uncom 
mon  bound  to  penuriousness.  He  meant  to  retrieve  the  past 
and  become  once  more  a  rich  man.  Rachel  seconded  this  en 
deavor. 

"  As  if  money  were  all !  "  Lucy  said,  with  a  scornful  laugh 
that  angered  him. 

But  when  she  found  herself  subjected  to  Rachel's  careful 
oversight  and  economy,  every  pulse  within  her  mutinied. 

"  What  is  it  to  you  ? "  she  said,  one  day,  stung  to  an  angry 
retort.  "  Am  I  not  his  wife  ?  Is  it  I  who  will  suffer  through 
his  poverty,  or  you  ?  " 

"  You  will  be  a  foolish  and  wasteful  woman  to  the  end. 
You  care  for  nothing  but  to  be  dressed  in  silk  and  sit  at  youi 
piano.  What  word  of  encouragement  do  you  ever  have  for  him, 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  193 

when  his  toil  is  over  ?    What  care  have  you  for  the  future  and 
his  old  age  ?  " 

"  You  should  have  martied  him  yourself,  Rachel !  My 
God,  I  wish  you  had  !  "  she  declared,  wringing  her  hands  with 
a  sudden  sharp  pang.  "  And  you  thought  once  that  he  cared 
for  you.  I  know  you  did  !  " 

Rachel  Garth  turned  pale  with  passion. 

"  Oh,"  her  sister  said,  "  what  a  wreck  I  have  made  of  all 
our  lives  !  God  help  me." 

"  Put  away  .these  foolish  tragedy  airs  ! "  exclaimed  Rachel, 
sternly.  "Act  as  becomes  a  prudent,  married  woman,  and 
study  your  husband's  interests." 

Lucy  was  awed  a  little  by  the  tone.  Her  heart  was  too  full 
for  a  reply.  And  yet  she  would  not  have  stooped  to  misjudge 
her  husband  or  her  sister. 

But  that  night  she  broached  a  subject  which  she  had  been  re 
volving  all  the  afternoon.  The  spring  was  coming,  and  they 
ought  to  be  looking  for  a  home  of  their  own.  This  had  been 
merely  a  temporary  arrangement. 

He  looked  at  her  in  stupid  surprise. 

"  What  fault  is  there  to  find  with  this  ? "  he  asked.  "  It  is 
your  father's  house." 

"  But  I  should  prefer  my  own." 

"  Has  Rachel  found  any  fault  ?  I  am  sure  she  has  always 
seemed  satisfied ; "  and  he  stared  hard  at  the  idea. 

"  It  is  not  Rachel.  I  want  the  freedom  of  my  own  home. 
It  may  be  small  and  simple — but  I  want  room  to  breathe. 
Here  I  am  nothing  !  " 

"  Oh,"  he  said,  with  a  coarse  sneer,  "  you  are  longing  for 
the  old  extravagances  ?  I  may  as  well  tell  you  once  for  all, 
madam,  that  they  will  never  be  had  with  my  consent  again.  I 
was  a  fool !  Those  people  who  drank  my  wines  and  ate  my 
luxuries — what  did  they  care  for  me  in  the  day  of  misfortune  ! 
And  your  grand  ladies  may  put  on  airs — they'll  never  darken 
my  doors  again  !  " 

9 


194:  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

"  Oh,  Warren,"  and  the  tears  were  in  her  eyes,  "  it  is  not 
that  at  all.  I  don't  wish  for  that  show  and  waste.  I  want 
a  pretty  little  home  where  we  can  care  for  each  other — "  she 
forced  herself  to  say  it — "  and  study  each  other's  happiness." 

He  looked  at  her  sharply,  as  if  he  had  come  to  distrust  her, 
and  she  felt  it  keenly. 

"  No,"  he  said,  decisively,  "  you  can't  wheedle  me  into  that ! 
I'm  very  well  satisfied,  and  here  I  mean  to  stay  while  your  fa 
ther  is  willing.  So  no  crying,  if  you  please ;  that  won't  move 
me." 

She  was  silent  from  amazement.  Her  very  heart  died 
within  her. 

He  tumbled  into  bed  without  another  word.  She  knew  this 
decision  was  final,  and  that  here  she  must  remain,  not  only  with 
him,  but  Rachel  for  a  jailor. 

Was  it  any  wonder  she  should  sit  there  over  the  dying  fire 
and  wish  that  she  had  never  been  born ! 

She  knew  very  well  that  Rachel  had  been  informed  of  this 
rebellious  outbreak.  It  was  Rachel  who  curtailed  her  pleas 
ures,  who  criticised  her  friends  unkindly  until  they  became  dis 
tasteful  to  her  husband. 

She  gave  up  with  a  passive'  indifference  that  blinded  Mr. 
Marchmont.  He  understood  the  cause  of  her  unhappiness  and 
ministered  to  her  with  rare  delicacy  and  feeling.  The  danger 
that  Mr.  Rutherford  had  dreaded  might  become  a  possibility 
now.  Many  a  woman,  feeling  herself  neglected  and  tyrannized 
over,  had  left  the  safe  conduct  of  a  husband's  authority  and 
thrown  herself  into  a  lover's  arms. 

The  business  was  coming  up  again  rapidly.  Every  day  the 
stock  increased,  and  those  who  had  been  wild  to  sell  at  so  great 
a  sacrifice  looked  on  with  silent  dismay. 

Marchmont  was  high  in  power.  His  had  been  one  of  the 
fortunate  chances  by  which  men  go  on  to  prosperity.  Indeed, 
by  some  prescience  he  had  foreseen  or  expected  this,  and  had 
been  holding  back  his  money  for  the  auspicious  moment  If 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  195 

he  could  secure  thousands  by  a  sharp  bargain,  it  was  no  one's 
business.  When  it  came  to  that  he  had  hardly  the  honor  or 
honesty  of  Warren  Thorndike. 

At  the  next  flood  tide  he  would  sell  out  with  a  competency. 
He  was  very  tired  of  Dedham.  Miss  Ronald,  who  had  been  so 
ready  to  minister  to  his  self-love,  was  far  away  ;  and  he  had  gone 
as  far  as  was  prudent  in  two  or  three  rather  interesting  affairs. 
He  really  began  to  long  for  city  excitements.  Consequently, 
Lucy  became  a  more  positive  need  to  him. 

And  so  he  fanned  the  flame  into  a  steady  revolt.  He  min 
istered  to  Lucy  Thorndike  as  only  a  subtle  and  accomplished 
man  of  the  world  could  minister,  and  made  the  hours  spent 
with  him  seem  the  only  pleasure  of  her  life.  That  they  should 
not  alarm  nor  pall  upon  her  fine  sense,  he  managed  that  they 
should  be  infrequent.  A  word  of  sympathy,  a  look  or  tone, 
and  her  heart  went  out  in  gratitude  towards  him. 

And  yet  it  was  gratitude  only.  If  he  could  have  looked 
into  her  heart  he  would  not  have  felt  quite  satisfied  with  the 
esteem  in  which  she  held  him.  "A  friend,  who  seeing  my 
lonely  life,  pities  me,"  she  thought. 

As  for  him  he  really  had  no  plans  for  the  future.  When  he 
became  necessary  to  her  existence,  circumstances  would  shape 
his  course.  He  was  hardly  aware  how  completely  he  was  drift 
ing  into  love  with  her,  for  the  passion  had  heretofore  been  a 
very  manageable  one  with  him. 

Lucy  Thorndike  did  not  give  up  all  the  hopes  of  her  life 
without  an  effort.  She  roused  herself  to  attract  her  husband's 
notice.  He  had  reached  that  state  of  indifference  where  it  was 
not  an  easy  task  to  please.  Her  attempts  at  prettiness,  whether 
it  were  a  ribbon,  a  brooch,  or  a  flower  in  her  hair,  were  extrav 
agance  and  vanity.  In  the  early  days  he  had  listened  to  her 
reading,  though  he  often  went  to  sleep  in  the  midst  of  it ;  but 
now  he  made  no  pretence  to  that  much  courtesy.  "  A  sensible 
man  was  not  expected  to  cry  over  foolish  novels." 

"  I  will  read  any  thing  else,"  she  said  in  her  pleading  tone. 


196  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  I  never  did  care  for  reading.  I've  too  many  things  to 
think  of." 

The  tone  was  hard  and  indifferent,  and  like  his  face,  with 
out  an  atom  of  sentiment. 

"  But  you  used  to  like  to  hear  me  sing." 

"  I've  other  things  to  attend  to.  Don't  bother  me  with 
your  nonsense." 

"  Warren,  did  you  ever  love  me  ?  " 

She  looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes  now,  a  grave,  beseech 
ing  expression,  as  if  she  could  still  plead  for  the  affection,  poor 
in  quality  as  it  had  been. 

"  Why,  yes,  I  suppose  so,"  in  an  uneasy,  shuffling  manner. 
"  But  a  man  is  a  fool  who  marries  a  woman  for  her  pretty  face. 
You  can't  live  on  beauty,  and  it  won't  help  much  in  the  way 
of  making  money." 

No,  he  could  not  coin  her  "  hair's  fine  gold  "  into  dollars  ; 
and  though  scarlet  lip  and  pearly  brow  might  have  a  value,  it 
was  not  in  the  soul  of  such  a  man. 

"  Oh  !  "  she  exclaimed  with  a  burst  of  passion,  "  you  don't 
know  how  hard  life  is  to  me,  Warren  !  It's  like  slow  starva 
tion." 

"  Hard  !  What  do  you  have  to  do,  I  should  like  to  know  ? 
To  sit  dressed  in  your  silks  from  morning  till  night,  read  nov 
els  and  sing  a  little.  And  I'm  sure  there's  no  occasion  for 
your  being  starved  !  I've  never  grudged  you  any  thing  !  " 

A  cold,  stupid,  material  soul  that  could  never  be  warmed 
by  any  truly  noble  feeling.  A  block  of  wood,  for  it  had  not 
the  fineness  of  marble.  And  she  was  chained  to  him  for  life — 
for  life  !  A  spirit  bound  by  a  fatal  word  spoken  in  ignorance, 
with  which  its  nature  could  never  have  the  slightest  corre 
spondence.  A  wild,  heaven-appealing  cry  rose  in  her  heart  for 
freedom ;  and  the  dreary  years  stretching  out  before  her  had  in 
them  all  the  elements  of  a  fruitless  struggle.  From  negative 
endurance  she  passed  to  a  state  of  keen,  sharp  loathing  for 
this  her  detested  bondage. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  197 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

FIGHTING      FATE. 

WARREN  THORNDIKE'S  taunts  filled  his  wife's  soul 
with  some  wild  resolves.  She  was  not  tempted  to  fly 
to  the  man  who  admired  her,  for  she  had  discovered  a  fatal 
lack  in  him  as  well.  Flying  elsewhere  had  crossed  her  mind. 

She  came  down  to  breakfast  in  the  plainest  cambric  dress 
she  could  find,  and  her  lovely  curls  put  out  of  sight.  It  was 
a  May  morning,  clear  and  balmy.  Birds  were  singing,  and 
great  wafts  of  apple  blossoms  filled  the  quivering  air. 

"  Rachel,"  she  said,  when  her  father  and  Mr.  Thorndike 
had  gone,  "  can  I  do  any  thing  to  help  you  ?  " 

Rachel  started  in  grim  surprise. 

Old  Hetty's  place  in  the  kitchen  had  been  filled  by  a 
younger  and  stronger  woman,  and  by  degrees  Rachel  had  giv 
en  up  much  to  her.  Since  she  paid  her  for  her  time  she  ex 
pected  to  have  the  uttermost  moment. 

"  No,"  she  answered  shortly. 

"  You  think  I  am  good  for  nothing,  let  me  try." 

Rachel  studied  her  in  blank  wonder.  A  fine  lady  with  a 
slender  figure,  clear  skin,  and  small  white  hands.  What  was 
she  good  for  ? 

"  There  isn't  more  than  enough  work  to  keep  Sarah  busy. 
She's  paid  for  doing  it." 

The  tone  was  cold  and  discouraging. 

"  Would  you  like  me  to  do  any  sewing  ? " 


198  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

"  No ; "  and  the  elder  turned  stiffly  away. 

Lucy  made  her  bed  and  put  her  two  rooms  in  order. 
Then  she  stood  by  the  window  a  long  while. 

"  It  is  time  to  begin  at  gardening,"  she  thought,  and  ran 
eagerly  down  stairs. 

The  door  yard  was  in  a  painful  state  of  precision.  On  each 
side  of  the  path  a  square  of  grass,  and  at  the  fence  edge  some 
roses,  old-fashioned  pinks,  phlox,  and  the  spear-like  blades  of 
blue  flag.  She  liked  soft,  clinging  vines,  tender  blossoms  in 
bright  colors  or  purest  white.  Where  could  she  make  a  be 
ginning  ? 

"  Rachel  ? "  she  called. 

The  elder  came  out  with  a  striped  handkerchief  tied  over 
her  head. 

"  I'd  like  to  have  a  flower  garden  since  I'm  going  to  stay 
here  for  the  summer.  Suppose  we  raise  a  mound  in  the  cen 
tre  of  the  grass  ?  " 

"  Tear  up  the  grass  ?  "    Rachel's  leaden  eyes  fairly  sparkled. 

"  Yes.  I'd  promise  to  keep  it  in  order.  It  would  look  so 
pretty.  And  I  like  rare,  lovely  things." 

What  had  come  over  Lucy  ?  For  a  moment  Rachel's  pow 
er  was  shaken  to  its  very  foundation. 

"I  believe  that  /  am  mistress  here,"  she  said  sharply. 
"  Not  one  inch  of  the  grass  comes  up  for  your  nonsense.  It's 
always  been  good  enough  for  me." 

Lucy  longed  to  blaze  up  in  defiant  anger.  She  prayed  to 
be  able  to  keep  the  resolve  of  that  morning. 

"  Can't  I  have  some  little  spot  ? "  and  her  tones  would 
have  sounded  heart-broken  to  any  other  ears. 

"  I  can  attend  to  this  myself.  The  flowers  are  just  as  / 
like  them." 

Then  Rachel  went  in.  Lucy  shed  some  bitter  tears,  and 
presently  found  her  way  around  to  the  rear  yard.  Every  thing 
was  in  scrupulous  order.  The  brick  pavement  had  been 
scrubbed  late  the  day  before,  there  was  the  grass  for  bleaching, 


Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

the  fruit  trees,  and  a  small  vegetable  garden  beyond,  whose 
beds  had  been  already  laid  out.  Not  a  corner  for  her. 

She  knew  of  old  that  Rachel  could  not  endure  the  least  in 
terference.  For  her  to  insist  would  be  to  make  open  war. 
She  had  been  ruled  with  a  heavy  hand  in  a  good  many  things 
since  she  had  been  Warren  Thorndike's  wife,  indulgent  as  he 
might  seem  at  times.  She  must  give  up  and  become  a  nonen 
tity,  no  other  course  was  before  her. 

With  a  swelling  heart  she  returned  to  her  room.  A  box 
of  mignonette  was  just  beginning  to  blossom  at  the  window. 
She  buried  her  face  in  it  and  kissed  its  soft  leaves  with  a  pas 
sion  of  tenderness.  It  could  not  refuse  her  love. 

Oh,  what  was  she  to  do  !  Life  was  becoming  so  vapid  and 
useless.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  her  brain  was  turning  to  stone, 
save  for  the  occasional  keen  pang.  There  lay  her  portfolio  of 
drawings — what  did  it  avail  ?  Here  her  books,  her  embroidery 
— the  many  trifles  with  which  happy  women  made  bright  their 
days.  No  one  smiled  to  see  her  dainty  fingers  busy,  to  hear 
her  low,  flexible  voice  giving  reality  to  the  loves,  passions,  trials 
and  tenderness  of  others.  And  she  was  so  eminently  formed 
for  affection  and  the  finer  graces  of  life.  Oh,  how  dreary ! 

A  new  thought  came  into  her  mind  after  awhile.  She  put 
on  her  hat  and  light  walking  jacket,  and  set  forth.  No  pleas 
ant  ramble  to  the  woods  was  this  to  be. 

Turning  into  a  common  street  where  there  were  some  cheap, 
•pretentious  houses,  she  stopped  at  one  and  pulled  the  bell. 
A  frowsy-headed  woman  in  a  very  dirty  wrapper  answered  the 
summons. 

"  The  land  sakes !  It  ain't  you,  Mrs.  Thorndike  !  "  and 
she  stood  a  moment  to  consider  whether  she  would  ask  her 
into  the  untidy  parlor. 

"  I  ain't  had  time  to  get  cleared  up  this  morning,"  she  said 
apologetically,  her  face  flushing  a  dull  red. 

"  Oh,  no  matter.  My  call  is  rather  unseasonable,  I  know, 
but  it  is  on  business,  and  that  must  be  my  excuse. 


200  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

"  You'll  come  in  ? "  rather  unwillingly. 

It  was  not  a  promising  commencement,  but  Lucy  Thorn- 
dike's  courage  carried  her  through. 

"  You  remember,  Mrs.  Howell,  that  you  were  discussing 
your  children's  music  at  the  Dorcas  meeting.  I  thought  you 
seemed  quite  anxious  that  the  two  younger  ones  should  learn." 
Lucy  hardly  dared  look  at  the  disorder  and  shabby  pretension 
around  her  as  she  thus  spoke. 

"  Yes,  only  Howell,  he  thinks  it  costs  so  much.  I'm  sure 
he  could  afford  it,  but  he  says  let  'em  wait  until  Araminta  gets 
big  enough  to  teach  'em.  We  pay  fifteen  dollars  a  quarter  for 
her.  It  would  be  a  good  deal  for  the  three,  and  I  always  say 
come  what  will  I  sha'n't  send  my  children  to  no  Restrict  school. 
So  Howell  he  scolds  about  bills." 

Mrs.  Howell  thrust  her  hair  out  of  her  eyes. 

"  Since  I  have  been  boarding  time  has  seemed  to  hang  heavy 
on  my  hands,"  began  Lucy,  her  refined  voice  contrasting 
strongly  with  the  other's.  "  1  think  I'd  like  to  try  a  few  music 
scholars.  I  will  take  both  of  your  little  girls  for  ten  dollars." 

It  was  all  said,  but  Lucy  felt  as  if  she  had  been  begging. 
A  delicate  flush  stole  into  the  fair  face. 

"  You  don't  say,  Mrs.  Thorndike  !  Land,  if  you  had  all 
my  work  to  do !  That's  only  five  dollars  apiece.  Minta's 
quarter  ends  next  week,  and  now  if  you'd  only  take  the  three 
I'm  sure  I'll  be  a  world  obleeged." 

The  dull  eyes  sharpened  at  the  prospect  of  driving  so  good 
a  bargain. 

"  I'll  take  the  three,"  Lucy  said,  choking  down  pride  and 
disgust 

"  Everybody  has  their  ups  and  downs,  I  s'pose.  Howell 
says  there  wasn't  near  so  much  loss  as  they  thought  for  last 
fell." 

Lucy  comprehended  the  ambiguous  sentence. 

"  Mr.  Thorndike  will  retrieve  all  his  past  misfortunes,"  she 
replied,  rather  proudly. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  201 

"  When  can  the  children  begin  ? " 

"Any  time  you  choose." 

"  Two  lessons  a  week  ? " 

"  Yes.  The  two  little  ones  can  come  on  one  afternoon — 
and  Araminta  alone. 

"  Very  well,  I'll  send  the  children  to-morrow ;  but  I  guess 
we  won't  call  it  a  fair  start  until  Monday.  They're  all  power 
ful  fond  of  music,  and  will  be  easy  to  teach." 

Lucy  smiled  and  nodded  acquiescently,  but  her  heart  was 
heavy.  To  ask  a  favor  of  this  ill-bred,  self-important  woman 
appeared  an  actual  disgrace. 

"  But  they  shall  never  taunt  me  again  with  indolence  !  "  she 
said  to  herself,  clinching  her  small  hand.  "  And  I  should  die 
to  go  on  with  this  life  !  " 

She  had  given  up  most  of  her  fashionable  friends  since 
she  found  they  were  so  distasteful  to  her  husband  ;  but  she  felt 
that  she  must  have  some  interest,  even  if  it  were  only  that  of 
labor. 

The  "  children "  came,  according  to  promise.  Ten  and 
twelve  years  of  age,  chubby,  dull-eyed  and  freckled  ;  dressed 
in  a  variety  of  colors,  outraging  every  law  of  harmony.  They 
were  wild  and  rude,  quite  unmanageable  indeed,  and  their  love 
of  music  consisted  in  fondness  for  noise,  the  banging  of  half  a 
dozen  keys  at  once. 

Every  moment  of  the  two  hours  was  martyrdom.  She  won 
dered  seriously  whether  her  piano  would  stand  these  rude  as 
saults,  and  began  to  entertain  a  great  misgiving  about  the  suc 
cess  of  her  undertaking.  She  resolved  not  to  say  one  word, 
though  she  fancied  Rachel  must  soon  suspect. 

The  ensuing  Monday  brought  Araminta,  who  was  fourteen, 
and  extremely  consequential.  Whenever  Lucy  corrected  her, 
she  exclaimed — "  Miss  Collins  said  I  must  always  do  this 
way,"  and  with  that,  the  pupil  settled  the  teacher.  She  was 
self-willed,  assured,  and  knew  absolutely  nothing. 

Lucy  sighed  in  despair.  Three  months  of  this  !  It  was 
9* 


202  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

much  harder  than  she  had  imagined.  Presently  she  might  find 
some  more  agreeable  pupils  and  discharge  these. 

Her  efforts  were  brought  to  a  sudden  and  ignoble  end. 
That  Mrs.  Howell  would  let  such  a  grand  subject  for  gossip 
slip,  was  not  to  be  imagined.  She  left  her  housework  and  her 
baby  to  spread  the  news  far  and  wide.  Mrs.  Thorndike  taking 
music  scholars ! 

The  story  grew,  each  one  adding  her  mite.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Thorndike  were  unhappy,  they  quarrelled  incessantly — he  had 
refused  to  support  her,  and  she  had  threatened  to  leave  him, 
but  Mr.  Garth  insisted  upon  her  remaining  under  'his  roof. 
She  was  idle,  ill-tempered,  and  extravagant ;  she  had  ruined  her 
husband,  and  was  actually  compelled  to  teach  music ! 

When  these  floating  fragments  reached  Mr.  Thorndike, 
his  brow  grew  purple  with  rage.  Rachel  had  complained  of 
her  bringing  in  the  neighboring  children,  but  that  his  wife 
should  dare  give  such  cause  for  scandal  about  him,  was  not  to 
be  borne  a  moment.  He  flew  home  in  a  passion,  and  burst 
into  her  room  in  the  mood  of  a  madman. 

"  Madam,  I  want  to  know  if  it  is  true  that  you  have  taken 
those  beggarly  brats  of  Howell's  into  this  house  and  expect  to 
teach  them  music  ?  " 

"  And  if  I  have,"  she  said,  "  what  then  ?  You  have  taunt 
ed  me  with  an  idle,  useless  life — you  have  questioned  the 
least  penny  spent  for  pleasure ;  and  what  if  I  do  choose  to 
have  something  of  my  own  ? " 

"  Not  while  you  are  my  wife  !  "  He  brought  his  clinched 
hand  down  on  the  table  with  such  force  that  it  shivered  the 
delicate  china  vase  with  its  one  luscious  carnation.  "  Not 
while  you  are  my  wife  !  Have  I  ever  refused  to  support  you  ? 
And  the  town  rings  from  one  end  to  the  other  with  the  base 
lie  that  Warren  Thorndike's  wife  is  compelled  to  work  for 
her  daily  bread.  This  is  your  doing.  You  want  me  to  be 
sneered  at,  despised  !  " 

"  Warren,  listen,"  she  exclaimed,  in  affright.     "  I  said  no 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  203 

suchr  word.  I  told  Mrs.  Hovvell  that  the  time  hung  heavy  on 
my  hands,  and  made  no  further  explanations.  But  you  have 
taunted  me — you  can't  deny  that !  You  have  refused  me 
money  for  a  book  or  a  flower — you  have  sneered  at  my  white 
hands,  my  delicacy.  I  begged  Rachel  to  let  me  help  her,  but 
she  would  not ;  and  then  I  resolved  to  do  something  for  my 
self." 

"  And  set  the  whole  town  gossipping  !  Well,  I  won't  have 
it — do  you  hear  that  ?  Let  one  of  that  crew  darken  these 
doors  again  at  your  peril !  " 

"  Oh,  Warren,  what  shall  I  do  ?    Why  did  you  marry  me  ?  " 

She  clasped  her  hands  in  pitiful  supplication,  and  her 
whole  frame  quivered  with  pain. 

"  Because  I  was  a  fool !  But  if  I  have  a  helpless,  useless 
wife,  she  shall  not  make  me  a  laughing-stock  for  the  town. 
This  very  day  you'll  send  over  to  tell  those  beggars  that  War 
ren  Thorndike  can  earn  bread  for  his  own  wife ;  and  if  she 
doesn't  choose  to  eat  that,  she  may  starve  !  " 

He  gave  a  coarse,  scornful  laugh.  It  seemed  to  her  at 
one  moment  as  if  she  could  almost  murder  him  for  his  cruel 
insolence — and  then  she  trembled  to  think  that  he  was  indeed 
her  master. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  with  a  dry,  torturing  sob,  "  why  do  you 
hate  me,  and  make  me  miserable  ?  What  can  I  do  ?  If  I 
were  only  dead  !  " 

"  A  sensible  enough  wish — but  people  don't  die  so  easily. 
Come,  put  on  your  hat  and  go  finish  this  smart  business. 
Next  time  you'll  be  likely  to  ask  my  advice." 

"  Not  now.  Let  me  write  a  note.  It  will  do  quite  as 
well." 

"  Come  along,"  he  said,  coarsely,  "  I  want  to  see  that  the 
thing  is  done." 

It  was  in  vain  for  her  to  entreat.  Every  word  exasperated 
him  fearfully.  She  did  have  one  strong  impulse  to  defy  him 
— but  his  rough,  brute  strength  and  force  awed  her. 


204  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

She  walked  down  the  street  beside  him  with  a  sinking 
heart.  If  Mrs.  Howell  had  distorted  the  other  simple  matter, 
what  capital  would  she  not  make  of  this. 

To  her  dying  day,  Lucy  could  not  be  grateful  enough  that 
Mrs.  Howell  was  not  at  home.  Ten-years-old  Bessy  was  nurs 
ing  the  white-headed  baby,  and  stared  at  a  message  that  she 
could  not  understand. 

Lucy  crept  home  laggingly.  It  seemed  as  if  her  strength 
would  fail  at  every  step..  Once  there,  she  threw  herself  upon 
the  bed  and  wept  softly,  drearily.  She  was  too  sad  and  worn 
even  for  passion. 

This  had  occurred  at  mid-afternoon.  Warren  Thorndike 
took  a  drive  out  to  the  mine  to  cool  his  temper — and  by  sup 
per  time  had  come  back  to  some  of  his  usual  stolidity. 

Sarah  was  sent  to  see  why  Lucy  did  not  come  to  supper 
as  usual. 

"  She's  feverish,  and  complains  of  a  headache,  and  she  looks 
like  a  ghost,  'cepting  the  red  spot  in  her  cheeks,"  was  the  girl's 
comment. 

"  Wont  she  have  a  cup  of  tea  ? "  asked  Mr.  Thorndike.  He 
almost  wished  that  he  had  not  been  quite  so  hard  with  her. 
Her  father  and  sister  had  warned  him,  and  now  he  was  reaping 
the  fruit  of  his  folly. 

"  No,  she  won't  have  any  thing.  She  said  don't  disturb 
her." 

Rachel  went  up  to  see  her  afterward.  She  neglected  no 
duty,  small  or  great,  but  Lucy  was  in  that  nervous  state  where 
every  sound  was  like  rasping  a  painful  wound. 

"  Go  away,"  she  begged.     "  Only  leave  me  alone  !  " 

Mr.  Garth  took  his  hat  and  went  out.  Mr.  Thorndike 
settled  himself  by  the  open  window  and  tilted  back  in  his  chair. 
Rachel  sent  the  tea  things  away,  and  as  it  was  not  dark,  took 
up  her  sewing. 

Three  years  had  not  improved  her  any  ;  but  Warren  Thorn- 
dike  looked  upon  her  with  different  eyes.  He  would  have  said 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  205 

with  Edmund  Spangler,  "there  was  no  nonsense  about  her." 
No  flowers  in  her  hair,  no  flummery  at  her  throat,  but  just  a 
plain  linen  collar,  no  flounces  or  furbelows.  She  never  had 
headaches  or  nerves,  never  wasted  her  time  over  novels,  could 
cook,  bake,  make  almost  any  garment,  and  had  a  sharp  eye 
for  any  neglect  or  carelessness  on  the  part  of  inferiors.  Then 
such  a  clear  head  as  hers  was  !  She  was  as  good  as  March- 
mont  for  going  over  the  books,  and  she  had  pointed  out  little 
leaks  that  he  had  never  dreamed  were  of  any  importance. 

Warren  Thorndike  had  never  been  romantic.  He  looked 
upon  his  wild  fever  for  Lucy  as  the  greatest  folly  of  his  life. 
A  woman  like  this  was  what  he  needed.  He  cared  nothing 
for  delicate  surroundings  and  refined  amusements.  Much  of 
the  past  had  been  a  positive  bore  to  him. 

And  with  the  unreasonableness  of  a  dwarfed  and  narrow 
nature  he  laid  the  whole  blame  upon  Lucy.  She  had  in  some 
sort  inveigled  him  into  this  unlucky  marriage.  She  had  per 
suaded  him  that  the  great  Cunningham  place  was  necessary  to 
their  happiness.  She  had  filled  the  house  with  grand  people, 
made  costly  entertainments  requisite,  and  half  ruined  him. 
And  now  she  was  dissatisfied,  a  helpless  burden.  If  he  had 
been  wise  and  married  Rachel.  Youth  and  beauty  were  noth 
ing,  after  all.  With  Rachel's  thrift  and  carefulness  he  would 
never  have  been  unfortunate. 

He  went  a  little  further  still.  Were  Lucy  to  die,  of  course 
he  would  marry  Rachel.  His  thoughts  followed  coarse,  straight 
forward  channels.  The  man  was  not  as  base  at  heart  as  hun 
dreds  of  others.  He  could  have  lived  here  twenty  years  and 
never  have  experienced  a  tender  longing  to  clasp  Rachel  to  his 
heart  or  electrify  her  pale  lips  with  a  kiss.  The  brief  fever  heat 
had  burned  out  with  Lucy.  He  would  not  even  experience  a 
temptation  to  waver  from  the  strict  letter  of  the  law.  And  yet 
he  would  have  made  slight  lamentation  had  freedom  come  to 
him  that  very  night. 

But  Lucy  did  not  die.     She  felt  very  weak  and  miserable. 


206  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

A  crumb  of  sympathy  from  old  Hetty  would  have  been  like  a 
ray  of  heaven  to  her.  Rachel  brought  her  tea  and  toast  until 
she  was  well  enough  to  come  down  stairs,  and  Mr.  Thorndike 
considered  his  duty  completed  by  looking  at  her  every  morning 
and  asking  her  how  she  felt. 

She  was  very  wan  and  pale  when  she  joined  the  family  cir 
cle.  Her  eyes  seemed  larger  and  darker  than  ever,  and  there 
was  a  hunted,  wistful  look  in  them.  Once  she  asked  Warren 
to  let  her  go  to  the  little  sea-side  town  where  she  had  spent  the 
preceding  summer. 

He  consulted  Rachel.  He  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  go 
ing  to  her  for  counsel  on  every  subject. 

"  What  nonsense,"  she  said  sharply.  "  I've  never  had  to 
go  to  the  sea-side  for  my  health  ! " 

He  made  s'ome  weak  excuse,  and  Lucy  gave  up  listlessly. 
After  all,  it  mattered  very  little.  Perhaps  it  was  better  not  to 
try  to  live.  » 

Her  sad  face  might  have  given  some  color  to  the  story  that 
she  was  not  well  treated.  People  did  surmise  a  little,  but  hu 
man  nature  is  so  apt  to  lean  on  the  prosperous  side.  Others 
besides  himself  began  to  think  that  Mr.  Thorndike  might  have 
married  more  wisely.  There  was  a  good-natured  hilarity  about 
him  that  rendered  him  a  favorite  with  those  who  did  not  de 
mand  the  high  types  of  refinement.  And  now  that  he  was  like 
ly  to  be  fortunate,  he  was  not  to  be  overlooked  nor  despised. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  207 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

DESPERATION. 

LATE  one  July  afternoon,  Lucy  Thorndike  was  rambling 
in  the  woods  at  the  river's  edge,  a  favorite  haunt  of  hers. 
There  had  been  rain  the  day  before,  and  every  leaf  was  crisp 
and  green,  the  mosses  soft,  the  stones  clean  and  gray,  and  the 
slow  tide  fretted  idly  along  in  musical  murmuring. 

She  was  thinking  of  Paul  Rutherford.  In  "the  hurry  and 
excitement  his  business  interests  had  been  sadly  neglected, 
she  well  knew.  His  lawyer  had  come  up  to  Dedham  and  in 
stituted  one  or  two  suits,  and  there  the  matter  languished. 

She  wondered  what  he  would  say  were  he  to  see  her  now  ! 
She  had  failed  in  every  thing — no  one  could  realize  it  more  bit 
terly  than  she.  Like  that  piece  of  driftwood  caught  by  one 
wave  in  play,  tossed  by  the  next  in  scorn,  and  allowed  to  find 
no  secure  resting-place.  Was  it  her  fault  that  life  had  been  so 
hard? 

A  step  startled  her.  Mr.  Marchmont  came  bounding  down 
the  rather  steep  hill-side,  and  paused  as  if  in  surprise. 

He  had  spent  much  of  his  summer  in  travelling.  For  a 
month  now  he  had  been  absent.  A  few  evenings  before  he 
had  dropped  in  at  Mr.  Garth's,  but  she  had  not  come  down. 
Driving  through  the  street  on  this  afternoon  he  had  caught  a 
glimpse  of  her  and  guessed  her  destination. 

He  had  remarked  that  Mr.  Thorndike  deferred  to  Rachel 
more  than  ever,  and  that  she  advised  him  as  if  his  prosperity 
was  the  one  thing  nearest  her  heart.  He  had  fancied  Lucy 
neglected,  but  he  was  hardly  prepared  for  so  great  a  change. 


208  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

If  any  thing,  she  was  more  lovely  in  his  estimation.  The 
transparent  complexion,  where  a  faint  shade  of  pink  fluttered 
with  the  passing  emotion ;  the  large-lidded,  melancholy  eyes  ; 
the  lips  still  scarlet ;  the  chin  still  exquisitely  rouaded  for  all 
its  thinness. 

She  sat  down  on  a  rock,  her  heart  throbbing  visibly.  The 
least  thing  overcame  her  now. 

He  misunderstood  the  agitation.  Vanity  said  that  it  must 
be  for  him. 

"  Excuse  my  abruptness,  I  caught  the  gleam  of  a  white 
dress  and  I  knew  who  frequented  this  little  nook.  But  you 
have  been  ill  ? " 

"  Not  very  well,  perhaps,  but  hardly  to  be  called  ill ; "  and 
she  smiled  gravely. 

"  I  was  disappointed  at  not  seeing  you  the  evening  I  called. 
Yet  they  said  you  were  well." 

"  I  seem  to  have  dropped  out  of  my  old  life,  Mr.  March- 
mont.  No  one  remembers  me  now." 

There  was  a  pathetic  sadness  in  her  tone. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  pointedly,  "  /  do.  You  once  asked  me, 
Mrs.  Thorndike,  what  I  would  do  for  a  friend.  Try  me  now. 
You  stand  so  alone,  your  life  has  become  so  desolate." 

"  There  is  nothing  that  you  can  do  for  me." 

There  was  something  deeper  than  dreariness  in  her  voice, 
a  settled  apathy,  as  if  every  thing  failed  to  charm.  Beyond  the 
shadowy  look  of  suffering  in  her  eyes  all  seemed  a  blank. 

"  Nothing  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  nothing  ?  Is  friendship  an 
empty  sound  to  you,  then  ?  " 

He  spoke  with  an  impassioned  vehemence  and  his  eyes 
kindled  with  a  subtle  fire.  So  might  look  love,  so  could  look 
hate  ! 

"  I  do  not  need  it.  I  am  not  above  its  sympathy,  but  so  far 
outside  the  pale  that  return  would  be  useless. 

He  thought  this  an  auspicious  moment. 

"  No,"   he  said  with  soft,  kindling  voice  and  dreamy  eyes 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  209 

that  had  beguiled  more  than  one  woman,  "  no,  that  is  not  what 
you  need.  You  read  your  soul  aright  there.  You  are  starv 
ing,  dying  for  a  little  love.  The  fatal  mistake  of  your  life  is 
bearing  its  bitter  fruit.  Friendship  must  stand  by,  impotent 
for  awhile,  and  see  you  suffer  without  the  power  to  avert  one 
pang.  But  it  will  not  always  be  so.  And  in  that  hour  let  me 
stand  by  your  side.  Let  me  counsel  and  advise.  For  I  be 
lieve  no  human  soul  would  guard  you  with  such  tenderness." 

"  Hush,"  she  returned.     "  You  have  no  right  to  say  this." 

"  Your  sorrow  gives  me  a  sacred  right.  Cannot  I  see  that 
you  stand  utterly  alone  ?  Your  very  sister  would  betray  you  ! 
Your  husband  casts  longing  eyes  upon  another  woman,  who  is 
of  his  kind,  after  all.  Your  grace,  your  sweetness,  the  purity 
of  your  soul  always  were  lost  upon  him.  Is  such  a  bald  tie  to 
be  called  marriage  ?  Rather  some  monstrous  and  horrible 
blot  upon  a  sacred  sky.  It  is  killing  you  slowly,  sapping  a  life 
worth  more  than  his  or  hers,  a  hundred  times." 

"  Oh,  you  are  wrong,"  she  cried  with  a  gasp.  "  For  Ra 
chel  is  strictly,  sternly  good,  even  if  he  were — " 

"  Am  I  blind,  think  you  ?     Will  they  have  to  wait  long  ? " 

He  gave  a  little  satirical  laugh.  If  he  were  any  woman's 
husband,  that  would  be  as  hard  to  bear  as  Warren  Thorndike's 
coarser  taunts. 

Yet  she  started  at  having  death  thus  thrust  at  her.  She 
could  not  endure  that  he  should  understand  their  satisfaction, 
since  she  felt  sure  that  they  did  not  even  admit  it  to  them 
selves. 

"  As  well  that  as  any  thing  ;  "  she  made  answer  wearily. 

"  No,"  he  returned,  "  you  must  live.  Why,  you  have  not 
outgrown  youth  and  its  pleasure,  you  have  never  tasted  the 
divine  draught  of  love.  The  bliss  of  living  is  yet  to  come  for 
you.  In  some  far  sunny  land  sheltered  and  watched  by  a 
heart  that  beats  for  you  alone,  smiled  upon  until  the  radiance 
of  hope  has  returned  to  your  lovely  eyes,  and  the  glow  of 
health  to  your  cheek  ;  when  the  warm  blood  throbs  exultantly 


210  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

in  your  veins  and  strength  returns  to  your  limbs,  then  you  may 
indeed  defy  them.  There  are  paths  to  this  boundless,  joyful 
freedom." 

A  soft,  seductive  warmth  diffused  itself  over  his  face,  and 
a  subtle  flame  burned  beneath  the  drooping  lids.  It  did  not 
conquer  her.  She  almost  asked  herself  why,  but  the  old  warn 
ing  was  still  lingering  in  her  brain. 

"  Let  me  be  your  friend,"  said  the  tempting  voice. 

"  It  is  best  that  I  should  go  my  way  alone." 

She  spoke  with  a  cold  indifference.  He  had  seen  her  kin 
dled,  full  of  expectation,  and  he  did  not  despair.  The  leaven 
would  begin  to  work  when  she  was  alone  in  her  desolation. 

Lucy  Thorndike  looked  far  down  the  river.  The  shores 
were  hazy  with  the  golden  films  of  summer  sunshine,  and  count 
less  insects  dazzled  it  like  swift  shooting  stars.  Somewhere 
there  was  rest  and  peace. 

"  Still  let  me  be  your  friend.     You  need  one  here." 

She  made  no  answer ;  but  he  studied  her  face  in  the  silence. 
The  tense  lines  about  the  mouth  were  those  of  pain,  not  firm 
ness.  He  had  seen  it  smile.  And  then  he  was  in  no  imme 
diate  haste  to  persuade. 

She  rose  and  walked  along  the  river's  edge  with  Vaughan 
Marchmont  at  her  side.  He  noted  the  faltering  step,  the  slow 
breathing,  the  whole  change  that  a  month  had  wrought.  And 
at  that  moment  he  gave  her  a  strange,  yearning  love,  so  tender, 
so  nearly  unselfish  that  he  did  not  understand  it  himself. 

They  parted  at  the  street,  she  would  have  it  so ;  but  he 
said  persuasively — 

1 '  You  will  come  again  ? " 

Warren  Thorndike  sat  on  the  porch  reading  his  paper. 
He  had  turned  the  corner  of  forty  now  and  seemed  quite  an 
old  man  to  her.  How  had  she  ever  come  to  fancy  him  ? 

"I  believe  you  have  no  sense;"  he  exclaimed  crossly. 
""You  are  always  moping  about  the  house,  and  yet  you  can 
take  long  walks  that  would  tire  a.  strong  man." 


Lucia  :  Her  Problem.  211 

She  made  no  reply  but  hung  her  hat  in  the  hall  as  Rachel 
called  them  to  supper.  Indeed,  through  the  meal  she  was 
thinking  of  what  Mr.  Marchmont  had  said  about  them. 

They  little  guessed  how  narrowly  she  watched.  Would 
they  be — not  exactly  glad  perhaps,  but  satisfied  to  have  her 
dead  ?  It  was  a  horrible  thought  after  all. 

They  talked  of  the  business  as  usual.  Marchmont's  tour 
had  been  quite  a  success. 

"  If  matters  go  on  this  way  I  shall  be  back  to  the  old  notch 
presently.  Then  I  can  snap  my  fingers  in  the  face'  of  the 
whole  crew  !  "  and  he  gave  a  little  chuckle. 

"  But  wiser,  I  hope  ; "  said  Rachel. 

"  Yes.  You'll  never  catch  me  fooling  away  money  at  that 
rate  again ; "  and  he  glanced  sharply  at  Lucy,  as  if  she  had 
been  the  cause. 

She  sat  thinking.  These  two  people  seemed  meant  for 
one  another.  If  she  were  out  of  the  way  it  would  soon  come 
about.  She  had  been  so  proud  to  thwart  Rachel  when  they 
had  first  known  Mr.  Thorndike,  but  she  had  been  sorely  pun 
ished,  heaven  knew.  If  she  went  away — not  depending  upon 
Mr.  Marchmont's  friendship,  but  quite  by  herself,  and  if  some 
way  they  could  think  her  dead — she  would  be  dead  to  all  the 
little  world  that  had  ever  known  her.  Would  it  be  wrong  ? 

Every  pulse  throbbed  and  ached.  She  rose  to  go  to  her 
room  but  paused  in  the  hall.  Her  father  sat  on  the  door  step 
in  the  moonlight. 

Some  inexplicable  impulse  urged  her  forward.  She  stood 
behind  him,  and  dropped  her  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Father ! "  softly  and  with  a  peculiar  sadness. 

"  You  are  not  well,  Lucy  !  " 

He  had  begun  to  see  it.  He  missed  the  old,  gay,  defiant 
spirit  that  had  animated  Lucy  Thorndike. 

The  hand  crept  close  beside  his  cheek.  Soft  fingers  they 
were,  and  they  touched  some  long-hidden  chord. 

"  I've  been  a  great  trouble  first  and  last ; "  she  went  on  iu 


212  Lucia:    Her  Problem. 

a  low,  sad  tone.  "  I'd  like  to  say  once  of  my  own  free  will 
that  I  am  sorry  for  all  the  waywardness,  the  impatience  of  con 
trol,  the  quick  tempers,  for  every  word  and  deed  that  has 
caused  you  pain.  And  if  you  will  forgive  me  ! " 

The  little  hands  met  in  an  imploring  clasp  under  his  chin. 
The  tremulous  voice  died  away  in  something  like  a  sob. 

Mr.  Garth  could  hardly  believe  his  senses.  One  of  the 
hardest  things  in  Lucy's  childhood  had  been  bending  this  stub 
born  will.  Many  a  time  had  he  tried  to  force  some  acknowl 
edgment  of  penitence  from  her,  and  failed. 

"You  will  forgive?  You  will  be  tender,  and  pitiful,  and 
not  remember  those  old  sins  against  me  !  "  she  pleaded. 

"  Child  " — his  voice  was  husky,  and  the  rigid  platitudes  he 
had  used  heretofore  seemed  cold  and  unmeaning, — "God 
knows  that  I  hold  nothing  against  you." 

"Thank  you.     Kiss  me  just  once." 

"  What  foolishness  is  this,  Lucy  ? "  but  his  voice  was  less 
stern  and  hard. 

"  Just  once.     You  won't  be  sorry  for  it" 

The  lips,  long  unused  to  such  caresses,  met  for  a  moment. 
Perhaps  some  dim  misgiving  crowded  upon  his  soul  that  his 
self-righteous  life  had  small  fruit  to  show  at  the  coming  harvest. 
Was  there  not  mercy  as  well  as  justice  ? 

"  Good-night,"  she  whispered,  softly,  and  stole  away.  If 
she  had  remained  another  moment,  she  must  have  been  weep 
ing  in  his  arms.  And  then  Rachel  would  have  come  forward 
and  quenched  the  hysterical  tenderness  with  her  strong  com 
monplace. 

But  he  sat  there  and  thought.  What  had  come  over  Lucy, 
to  make  her  so  different ;  so  humble  ?  The  old  self-assertion 
had  vanished — the  daily  bickerings  were  no  more.  Was  it  loss 
of  health  and  spirits  ;  or  had  Mr.  Thorndike  learned  the  secret 
of  subduing  her  ?  A  half- formed  wish  came  into  his  mind  that 
she  had  not  married  Warren  Thorndike.  He  would  have 
suited  Rachel  so  well.  And  it  seemed  at  that  moment  he  had 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  213 

an  awful  glimpse  of  a  soul  which  he  had  wrecked  through 
blindness  and  hardness.  Just  so  she  had  come  at  first  and 
twined  her  soft  arms  around  his  neck,  begged  for  caresses  and 
forgivenesses  until  he  had  thrust  her  away.  He  thought  that 
if  he  knew  of  Warren  Thorndike's  doing  such  a  thing,  he 
should  hate  him  until  the  day  of  his  death. 

When  he  arose  he  felt  weak  and  feeble,  like  a  man  who  has 
been  through  a  great  strife  or  sorrow.  Rachel  was  fasten 
ing  the  windows,  and  still  talking  of  profit  and  loss  to  Thorn- 
dike.  The  words  came  into  his  mind  unconsciously — "What 
shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his 
own  soul  ? " 

He  had  always  counted  so  confidently  on  gaining  and  sav 
ing,  both.  What  if  he  had  made  a  fatal  mistake  ? 

Lucy  did  not  come  down  to  breakfast  with  the  rest  the 
next  morning.  She  took  her  coffee  and  toast  in  languid  silence. 
Her  resolve  had  been  made.  If  she  had  lacked  courage,  her 
husband's  cold  demeanor  would  have  supplied  it. 

•I  cannot  say  that  there  was  much  thought  or  consideration 
about  this  step  of  Lucy  Thorndike's.  It  was  a  wild  resolve  to 
be  free — to  leave  the  place  where  she  was  so  useless.  She 
could  make  no  one  happy,  she  reasoned,  and  they  would  be 
better  satisfied  without  her.  She  would  have  been  equally 
glad  to  die — but  death  lingered  afar. 

Neither  did  it  require  much  courage.  She  packed  up 
some  valuable  jewels,  and  one  change  of  clothing,  in  a  small 
travelling  satchel ;  and  after  writing  a  brief  note,  put  on  her 
hat  and  a  light  walking  suit — for  the  day  bid  fair  to  be  warm. 

"  I  am  going  out,  Rachel,"  she  exclaimed,  glancing  in  at 
the  sitting-room  door. 

The  hard,  cold,  unlovely  face  was  raised  a  moment. 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  if  I  was  complaining  all  the  time,  I 
would  stay  in  the  house  and  take  care  of  myself." 

"  Good-by,"  with  a  terror  in  her  voice. 

She  went  down  the  street  for  a  square  or  two,  then  turned 


214  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

in  the  direction  of  the  railroad  station.  Purchasing  her  ticket, 
she  took  a  seat  in  the  forward  car.  Being  an  accommodation 
train  there  was  considerable  freight  and  baggage  to  be  taken 
on  board.  She  drew  her  veil  over  her  face  and  sat  there  in 
silence.  No  one  spoke  to  her,  for  which  she  was  thankful. 

At  the  third  station  she  stopped.  A  busy  little  town  with 
paper  mills,  cotton  mills,  hat  shops,  and  various  smaller  mat 
ters.  There  was  always  a  crowd  of  girls  and  women  here  at 
Bradford,  and  one  more  or  less  would  hardly  be  remarked. 
She  went  into  several  shops  to  dispose  of  some  jewelry,  and 
made  a  few  purchases.  For  the  rest  of  the  day  she  secluded 
herself  in  a  small  room  at  the  least  pretentious  hotel  and  sew 
ed  until  late  in  the  evening,  when,  utterly  wearied  out,  she  fell 
into  a  feverish  slumber. 

She  went  to  breakfast  in  the  attire  of  the  previous  day,  and 
paid  her  bill  afterward.  Then  she  made  a  change,  and  envel 
oping  herself  in  a  long  linen  duster,  stole  quietly  out  in  the 
street  with  a  bundle  in  her  hand  beside  the  satchel.  How  to 
dispose  of  this  perplexed  her.  She  wished  it  to  be  discovered 
some  time,  but  not  too  soon.  Where  could  she  hide  it  ? 

Back  of  the  busy  town  there  was  a  belt  of  woodland,  and 
the  stream  that  turned  these  busy  wheels  must  run  through  it. 
There  might  be  a  safe  place.  If  they  thought  her  drowned,  so 
much  the  better. 

Finally  she  settled  the  matter  to  her  liking.  She  was  very 
tired,  and  as  a  stage  came  lumbering  along  she  was  thankful 
to  take  it  for  some  small  interior  village.  Would  any  one  have 
recognized  this  slow-stepping  woman  in  her  plain  black  dress, 
brown  hat  and  veil,  without  the  least  attempt  at  style,  as  Lucy 
Thorndike  ?  There  were  no  betraying  curls  floating  around, 
no  slender  white  hands  visible,  for  hers  were  encased  in  coarse 
gloves. 

When  she  looked  back  at  this  time  it  seemed  as  if  a  fate 
must  have  guided  her  steps,  so  little  thought  did  she  take. 
From  stage  to  car  again,  a  kind  of  confused,  purposeless  jour- 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  215 

neying.  On.ce  she  asked  how  many  miles  she  might  be  from 
Bradford,  and  was  surprised  at  the  distance.  It  would  be  safe 
to  stop  and  rest. 

And  not  a  moment  too  soon  did  she  resolve.  Her  trem 
bling  limbs  utterly  refused  to  carry  her  another  step.  Her 
brain  was  weak  and  wandering,  around  her  eyes  had  settled 
great  shadows,  her  tongue  was  dry  and  burning,  her  lips 
parched,  and  her  temples  throbbed  fearfully. 

"  If  I  should  die  !  "  she  thought  with  a  vague  shiver — here 
among  strangers. 

"  You  look  very  ill,  Miss,"  said  a  motherly  voice,  when  she 
was  left  standing  nearly  alone  on  the  platform. 

"  Yes.     If  you  could  direct  me — " 

Her  head  swam  round.  There  was  a  strange  ringing  in 
her  ears,  a  rush  as  of  a  mighty  sea,  then  all  was  dark,  silent 
and  peaceful. 

"  Poor  child  !     Whatever  am  I  to  do  with  her  ?  " 

A  pitiful  soul  answered  the  question.  Dying  or  living, 
Lucy  Thorndike  had  found  a  friend. 

By  this  time  there  was  of  course  a  great  stir  at  Dedham. 
Warren  Thorndike  had  said  the  first  noon.  "  Where's  Lucy  ? " 
not  that  he  cared  specially. 

"  She  went  out  this  morning,"  responded  Rachel. 

"  She  doesn't  seem  as  well  as  usual,"  said  Mr.  Garth  slowly. 

"  Bui  she  is  well  enough  to  be  continually  on  the  street ! 
To  my  mind  that's  a  deal  harder  than  work." 

So  might  have  spoken  Rachel's  mother  years  before. 

"  Work ! "  exclaimed  Warren  Thorndike  with  a  clumsy 
kind  of  scorn.  "  There's  only  about  one  woman  in  a  hundred 
who  troubles  her  head  on  that  score ! " 

Rachel  knew  she  was  that  rare  person,  and  gave  a  grim, 
satisfied  smile. 

"  Marchmont's  off  again — had  a  telegram  or  something  !  " 
he  announced.  "  I  must  go  down  to  the  iron  works  at  Grays- 
burg,  and  shall  not  be  home  early." 


216  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

Rachel  and  her  father  had  their  supper  alone.  Mr.  Garth 
was  a  good  deal  disturbed  at  Lucy's  continued  absence.  He 
went  out  afterward  and  rambled  around  aimlessly. 

All  day  he  had  been  haunted  by  his  child's  sad  face  and 
sadder  voice.  Old  memories  that  he  tried  in  vain  to  banish 
rose  up  hauntingly.  He  was  past  sixty,  and  nearing  the  time 
when  he  must  stand  face  to  face  with  the  deeds  of  his  past  life. 
He  had  not  cheated,  he  had  been  a  man  of  truth  and  honor,  a 
just  if  not  cordial  neighbor,  and  perhaps  as  charitable  as  most 
men  in  his  position.  Yet  since  last  night  he  had  experienced 
a  great  lack,  his  self-complacency  had  been  swept  away. 

Left  to  herself,  Rachel  went  up  to  Lucy's  room.  Every 
thing  was  in  order,  even  to  the  vase  of  flowers  upon  the  table. 
She  sighed  a  little  over  the  waste  of  time  and  money  these 
adornments  indicated.  If  Warren  Thorndike  had  chosen  a 
smart,  sensible  woman !  But  Lucy  always  had  been  unman 
ageable. 

She  raised  the  books  and  laid  them  down  again ;  looked 
over  the  trifles  in  the  basket,  and  wondered  why  Lucy  stayed 
away.  The  drawers  were  unlocked,  and  she  opened  them,  one 
by  one,  as  if  on  the  keen  scent  for  some  untidiness.  In  one 
lay  a  folded  paper. 

Rachel  Garth  was  not  very  curious.  If  she  had  suspected 
her  sister  of  any  imprudence,  she  would  have  felt  perfectly  jus 
tified  in  searching  every  scrap  of  paper ;  but  this,  which  would 
have  told  a  part  of  the  secret,  she  never  touched.  It  had  no 
superscription  at  all. 

She  heard  Warren's  heavy  step,  and  ran  down  to  give  him 
his  supper.  He  was  flushed  and  angry. 

"  Is  Lucy  home  ? "  he  asked. 

"  No,  I  can't  imagine  where  she  went." 

"  She  left  Dedham  in  the  train,  at  ten — had  a  ticket  for 
Westfield.  I  heard  that  by  a  mere  accident." 

"  Why,  she  hasn't  any  friends  there  !  "  was  Rachel's  amazed 
comment. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  217 

"  She  might  have  had  the  manners  to  speak  of  it,  at  least. 
And  not  home  yet !  " 

Rachel  went  directly  up  stairs  again.  One  of  those  pre 
sentiments  to  which  we  are  all  subject,  flashed  upon  her.  She 
took  up  the  note  that  she  had  hardly  remarked  before,  and 
opened  it.  There  were  just  two  lines,  in  Lucy's  own  delicate 
hand. 

"  I  am  going  away.  Forget  me,  and  let  me  be  as  the  dead  to 
you  all.  LUCY." 

She  came  back,  holding  it  in  her  hand,  her  face  actually 
pallid. 

"  I  saw  this  note  awhile  ago,  but  did  not  open  it,"  she  said, 
in  a  thick,  excited  tone.  "  It  explains  her  absence." 

Warren  Thorndike  read  it,  and  then  smote  the  table  a 
mighty  blow  with  his  heavy  fist.  Rachel  started,  in  conster 
nation. 

"  The  wretched,  shameless  hussy.  She  has  gone  off  with 
Marchmont !  He  left  in  the  same  train." 

"  No,  it  can't  be  !  " 

"  I  tell  you  that  it  is  !  They  used  to  be  great  friends  ;  and 
he's  the  kind  women  go  crazy  over.  Why  Miss  Ronald  made 
a  fool  of  herself  about  him  !  Lucy's  had  something  on  her 
mind  this  long  while." 

Warren  Thorndike  smiled  inwardly  at  his  astuteness.  He 
couldn't  be  easily  blinded  !  Sooner  or  later  he  managed  to  fer 
ret  out  the  sly  doings  of  others.  There  was  no  sense  of  wound 
ed  love  nor  outraged  honor — no  keen  indignation  at  the 
thought  of  perfidy  in  wife  and  friend  ;  but  a  kind  of  brutal,  tri 
umphant  passion. 

"  What  will  you  do  ?  "  Rachel  asked  the  question  with 
trembling  lips. 

"  Let  'em  go?     I'm  not  fool  enough  to  spend  my  time  and 
money  chasing  after  them.     If  a  women  doesn't  care  for  me, 
I  shall  not  break  my  heart  for  her  !  " 
10 


218  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  But  it's  a  hard  thing  for  you  to  bear,  Warren  ? " 

He  looked  as  if  he  were  quite  equal  to  that  or  any  other 
burden.  A  great,  brawny,  stolid  fellow,  with  no  soul  visible  in 
the  ruddy,  heavy  face.  The  grief  would  not  be  likely  to  dis 
turb  his  slumbers. 

"  Zounds  !  isn't  it ! "  he  exclaimed,  striking  the  table  anoth 
er  blow.  "  To  think  of  all  I've  spent  on  her — her  fine  dresses, 
piano,  parties,  and  fol-de-rols  !  And  now,  because  she  couldn't 
go  on  in  style,  and  because  I'm  not  one  of  your  sweet-scented, 
dangling  men,  she  plays  me  this  shabby  trick.  Well,  let  her 
go !  She'll  stay  away,  I  can  tell  you.  I'm  not  to  be  taken  in 
with  a  woman's  whining  and  a  few  tears." 

"  This  comes  of  reading  novels,  and  doing  nothing ; "  said 
Rachel  sternly. 

"  Not  that  I  blame  any  one,"  continued  Mr.  Thorndike. 
"You  warned  me,  and  so  did  your  father.  I  was  a  fool  to  care 
about  her  beauty,  and  all  that ;  but  I  thought  she  loved  me — I 
really  believed  she  did !  A  miserable,  deceitful  woman  ! " 

Rachel  felt  this  was  the  end  that  might  have  been  expected 
for  her.  She  was  hardly  surprised  when  it  came  to  that.  As 
for  the  temptation,  the  beguiling  love  stronger  than  any  sense 
of  shame,  the  possible  struggle — all  these  she  could  know  noth 
ing  of,  nor  realize.  She  would  never  have  been  tempted. 
Material  good  would  have  proved  amply  sufficient  for  her. 


Lucia:  Her 


CHAPTER  XX. 

CROWNED    WITH    RUE. 

RACHEL  GARTH  announced  the  miserable  tidings  to 
her  father  in  a  more  softened  manner  than  one  would 
have  expected.  And  at  the  first  moment  he  scouted  it  as  utter 
ly  impossible  !  Would  Lucy  have  proffered  that  request  of  last 
night  if  she  had  meant  to  blacken  it  by  this  monstrous  sin. 

"  I  don't  know  what  more  I  could  have  done ;  "  he  said 
brokenly.  "  I  tried  to  train  her  in  the  right  way — I  strove  to 
impress  truth,  and  honor,  and  virtue  upon  her  mind,  to  control 
her  rebellious  temper  and  wild  fancies.  And  this  is  the  end !  " 

Rachel  comforted  him.  She  could  not  see  that  it  was  her 
fault  or  her  father's  that  Lucy  had  gone  astray.  It  was  the  re 
sult  of  extravagance  and  indulgence,  fondness  for  society,  vanity, 
self  will,  and  a  less  pardonable  coquetry.  She  had  rushed 
headlong  to  ruin  on  her  own  responsibility. 

Perhaps  Mr.  Garth  rather  longed  to  have  this  view  of  the 
case  strengthened.  He  wanted  to  feel  acquitted  in  his  own 
eyes. 

"  We  shall  find  out  the  truth  of  this,"  he  replied.  "  If  it 
proves  so,  she  is  no  child  of  mine  henceforth.  " 

With  that  they  parted.  He  could  not  sleep,  but  revolved 
all  the  suspicious  circumstances  in  his  mind — and  Heaven 
knows  there  was  no  lack  of  them.  And  if  to  the  rest  she  had 
added  this  shameful  hypocrisy,  her  cup  of  offence  was  indeed 
full. 


Lvcia;  Her  Problem. 

The  Garths  kept  their  own  counsel  for  the  next  two  days. 
On  the  third,  Mr.  Marchmont  walked  into  the  office  with  his 
usual  jaunty  air,  and  wished  Mr.  Thorndike  a  very  careless, 
graceful  good-morning. 

There  was  a  blue  line  about  Warren  Thornd ike's  mouth, 
and  his  fingers  clinched  instinctively.  They  would  not  be  pleas 
ant  at  a  man's  throat.  He  went  close  up  to  his  handsome 
rival. 

"  Where  is  my  wife,  Marchmont  ?  "  he  hissed. 

"  Your  wife  ?     Mrs.  Thorndike  ? " 

Had  Lucy  been  weak  and  wild  enough  to  confess  that  frag 
ment  of  a  conversation  at  the  river's  edge  ? 

"  Yes,  my  wife  !  She  left  in  the  same  train,  on  the  same 
morning." 

"  Good  God  !  " 

Vaughan  Marchmont  struck  his  hand  to  his  forehead,  and 
stared  at  the  other  in  such  surprise  that  Mr.  Thorndike  was 
staggered. 

"  There  has  been  no  search  made.  No  one  cared  to  bruit 
such  a  truth  abroad.  After  a  step  like  that,  she  could  never 
be  my  wife  again  ;  so  I  wish  you  joy  of  her  !  "  with  a  cruel, 
scornful  smile. 

"  As  I  live,  Thorndike,  I  never  saw  her.  I  did  not  know 
that  she  was  on  the  train.  Why  should  you  accuse  me  of  such 
a  foul  deed  ?  "  and  he  straightened  himself  with  an  air  of  in 
jured  innocence. 

"  Because  she  liked  you ;"  the  man  said  bluntly — little 
guessing  how  this  flattered  his  adversary's  soul. 

Then  they  gave  each  other  a  long,  questioning  look.  A 
spirit  of  bitter  hate  was  in  each  heart. 

"Thorndike,"  Marchmont  said,  "you  never  did  deserve 
her  !  You  have  broken  her  heart  by  your  careless  cruelty  and 
culpable  indifference.  If  she  had  sought  a  tender  and  cher 
ishing  love,  it  would  be  no  sin  in  God's  eyes.  But  where  is 
she  ?  You  may  have  to  answer  for  this  !  " 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  221 

Thorndike  paled,  partly  with  passion,  partly  with  fear.  But 
anger  helped  him  to  recover  himself  shortly. 

"  It  is  a  lie  !  "  he  returned,  hoarsely.  "  I  never  was  cruel 
to  her.  I  gave  her  every  thing  while  I  was  prosperous.  What 
more  could  I  do  ?  " 

"  What  more  !  "  Marchmont  re-echoed  in  withering  scorn. ' 
':  No  more,  perhaps,"  smiling  bitterly.      "  You  never  knew 
what  she  needed.     You  could  not  understand  a  fine,  high  soul 
like  hers  ! 

Thorndike  knew  it,  and  the  knowledge  stung  him,  but  not 
with  the  self-condemnation  that  might  have  tortured  a  nobler 
man." 

"  Look  here,  Marchmont,"  he  said,  his  face  livid  with  pas 
sion,  "  I'm  a  plain  man  and  do  not  understand  all  this  non 
sense  about  higher  life  and  sympathy,  and  the  miserable  trash 
it  is  the  fashion  to  talk  nowadays.  You  are  right  enough 
there,"  grimly.  "But  she  married  me  of  her  own  accord,  and 
I  was  fool  enough  to  think  she  loved  me.  Have  not  I  seen 
this  good  while  that  she  was  not  satisfied  with  me  !  And  I 
say  I've  never  done  any  thing  that  her  father  or  sister  thinks 
wrong.  By  Jove  !  Do  you  suppose  I'll  take  it  from  any  oth 
er  man  ! " 

Recrimination  with  such  rude  brute  force  was  folly.  March 
mont  rushed  at  once  to  Mr.  Garth's,  and  cleared  himself  of  the 
foul  imputation.  But  the  fact  of  Lucy  Thorndike's  disappear 
ance  still  remained. 

The  secret  must  be  confessed,  and  a  search  made.  March- 
mont's  love  for  Lucy  was  stronger  than  his  hate  for  Thorn- 
dike  ;  indeed,  the  man  was  too  coarse  and  vulgar  for  any  emo 
tion  that  savored  of  respect.  He  felt  assured  that  Lucy  had 
cared  for  him  ;  and  if  found,  he  meant  to  befriend  her.  If  he 
could  once  win  her  gratitude  ! 

There  was  another  excitement  in  Dedham.  Lucy  Garth 
seemed  destined  to  drag  her  family  into  notoriety  one  way  or 
another.  She  was  traced  to  Bradford,  easily.  Rachel  rcmem- 


222  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

bered  the  dress  she  wore — a  light  gray  poplin,  and  no  other 
was  missing  from  her  wardrobe.  A  more  thorough  search 
brought  the  fact  to  light  that  her  valuable  jewels  were  missing. 

Mr.  Marchmont  resolved  that  Dedham  should  not  link  his 
name  to  any  tale  of  scandal.  For  this  purpose  he  sought  an 
interview  with  Rachel  Garth.  Thorndike  had  retailed  his 
coarse  suspicions  without  doubt. 

Mr.  Garth  had  become  more  than  anxious.  With  pain 
that  he  hardly  dared  confess  to  himself,  he  saw  that  Thorndike 
felt  absolutely  relieved.  But  where  had  Lucy  gone  ?  What 
was  she  doing  ? 

"  As  there  is  a  God  above  us,"  Marchmont  exclaimed,  "  I 
never  saw  her  that  morning  on  the  train.  You  know  there 
could  have  been  no  secret  correspondence,  and  I  have  been 
away  so  much  that  it  is  preposterous  to  lay  such  a  charge  at 
my  door.  I  have  no  more  knowledge  of  her  whereabouts  than 
you,  Mr.  Garth.  But  Heaven  knows  there  was  little  enough  to 
keep  her  here  !  " 

Mr.  Garth  nodded  with  slow,  dull  belief.  If  Lucy  could 
have  found  such  a  man  in  the  beginning !  If — " 

"  You  acquit  me  of  all  complicity  !  "  he  said,  fastening  his 
deep  eyes  upon  the  poor  father  whose  mind  was  fast  becoming 
confused  by  the  tangle  of  events. 

"  I  do  not  believe  that  she — went  away  with  any  one  ; "  re 
membering  her  last  kiss. 

"  I  could  swear  to  it ; "  Marchmont  returned  positively. 

He  broached  the  subject  once  more  to  Thorndike. 

"The  man  or  woman  who  dares  to  breathe  such  a  slander 
shall  be  called  to  a  strict  account;"  he  said  in  a  voice  that 
was  sharp  and  steely  with  resolution.  Let  such  a  matter  be 
once  discussed  here  in  Dedham,  and  you'll  rue  it  to  your  latest 
day,  Thorndike.  I  have  it  in  my  power  to  make  a  bitter  re 
turn." 

Thorndike  was  awed  and  admitted  to  Rachel  that  he  had 
been  hasty  and  angry  when  he  uttered  the  suspicion.  Yet  he 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  223 

held  secretly  to  his  first  belief,  although  there  could  be  but  the 
slightest  suspicion  to  warrant  it. 

A  month  or  so  later  a  clue  was  discovered,  though  it  left 
the  matter  more  of  a  mystery  than  ever.  Mrs  Thorndike's 
dress  was  found  and  identified,  and  also  some  articles  of  cloth 
ing,  on  which  her  name  was  written  in  full.  They  seemed  to 
have  caught  in  the  roots  of  the  trees  and  stones  at  the  river's 
edge,  a  mile  or  two  below  Bradford.  And  then  came  a  story  of  a 
woman  having  been  found  drowned  at  the  next  town  ;  but  in 
such  a  state  of  decomposition,  that  identification  was  impossi 
ble.  Several  persons  thought  they  recognized  one  of  a  num 
ber  of  beggars  and  tramps,  possibly  thieves,  that  had  been  seen 
prowling  around  the  place — and  as  such,  she  had  been  buried, 
after  the  usual  coroner's  inquest.  But  upon  minute  inquiry, 
several  important  discoveries  were  made.  The  woman  was 
without  a  dress,  a  faded  shawl  having  been  tied  about  her  body, 
She  was  tall,  slender,  had  the  appearance  of  being  young,  and 
with  a  quantity  of  long,  light  hair.  There  were  no  marks  of 
violence  visible — but  the  examination  had  elicited  the  fact  that 
the  woman  must  have  been  in  the  final  stages  of  consump 
tion. 

There  were  many  plausible  reasons  why  this  might  be  Lucy 
Thorndike's  body.  Her  languor  and  apparent  ill-health,  her 
secret  dissatisfaction — and  presently,  the  knowledge  that  she 
had  sold  some  of  her  jewels  in  Bradford.  Finding  herself  des 
titute  and  alone  at  the  last,  it  was  not  impossible  that  she  had 
sought  this  method  of  ending  a  troubled  life. 

To  Mr.  Garth  it  was  a  great  shock.  He  had  taken  the 
death  of  Lucy's  mother  with  something  of  a  feeling  of  relief, 
but  this  struck  him  the  keenest  blow  of  his  whole  life.  Rachel 
almost  longed  to  call  her  back  from  her  grave  and  le'cture  her 
upon  the  heinousness  of  her  sin.  That  a  woman  with  so  good 
and  indulgent  a  husband  as  Warren  Thorndike,  plenty  of  money, 
no  care  or  trouble — and  nothing  to  do,  if  that  could  be  a  sat 
isfaction — should  wish  to  end  her  life  in  this  tragic  and  uncom 


224  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

fortable  manner,  astounded  her.  It  was  such  an  excellent 
text  for  a  homily  that  she  could  not  bear  to  give  it  up  without 
sermonizing  her  dead  sister.  And  so  she  sighed  over  the  use 
less  life  that  had  gone  out  thus  suddenly. 

Mrs.  Glenfield  came  to  condole  with  her.  The  bitter  feel 
ing  between  the  two  religious  bodies  had  softened  considerably 
of  late  on  the  natural  ground  perhaps  that  all  old  prejudices 
weaken.  Many  of  her  past  friends  called,  moved  in  more 
than  one  case  by  curiosity.  Some  believed  that  Mrs.  Thorn- 
dike  had  never  recovered  from  the  downfall  of  her  pride  and 
ambition  ;  others  whispered  that  she  had  rebelled  against  and 
defied  her  husband's  sway.  Many  blamed,  a  few  pitied,  and 
others  confidently  averred  that  it  was  just  what  might  have 
been  expected.  Perhaps  it  was  well  that  both  Rachel  and  Mr. 
Thorndike  paid  little  heed  to  the  senseless  gossip. 

One  autumn  day  they  brought  home  the  body  supposed  to 
be  that  of  Lucy  Thorndike,  and  laid  it  to  rest  in  the  quiet  old- 
fashioned  churchyard  beside  her  mother.  Mr.  Howe,  with  his 
kindly  word  for  everybody,  felt  sure  that  she  had  not  been  in 
her  right  mind.  To  Mr.  Garth  the  idea  was  a  great  comfort 
He  wanted  to  believe  that  Lucy,  with  all  her  sins  and  follies, 
had  not  been  utterly  lost  at  the  last.  Indeed,  he  wondered 
sometimes  if  his  own  mind  was  not  giving  way.  There  was  a 
great  confusion  of  thought,  an  inability  to  distinguish  clearly  in 
matters  about  which  he  had  always  felt  so  positive  heretofore. 
In  his  secret  heart  he  mourned  his  child  with  a  strange  passion 
of  grief  for  so  cold  a  nature. 

Rachel,  I  think,  felt  relieved.  She  hated  scenes  and  ex 
citements,  and  could  have  gone  on  in  one  groove  forever. 
From  her  birth  Lucy  had  been  a  subject  of  turmoil  and  con 
tention.  First  with  her  ill-fated  mother,  then  her  own  stormy 
childhood,  her  unwise  marriage,  indeed,  the  whole  of  her  mis 
guided  life.  It  was  as  well  that  she  should  be  at  rest.  She 
was  of  small  use  or  service  to  the  world. 

Does  Rachel  Garth  seem  utterly  heartless  to  you  ?    That 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  225 

she  was  cold,  rigid  and  narrow  I  admit ;  and  yet,  comparing 
her  works  with  Lucy's,  the  latter  was  left  far  behind.  Rachel 
had  been  a  conscientious  and  careful  daughter.  Her  father's 
bodily  comfort  would  never  suffer  at  her  hands.  A  good 
neighbor,  ready  in  sickness,  sprinkling  her  almsgiving  plenti 
fully  with  rather  sharp  censure  and  unpalatable  advice,  bu1" 
sensible  in  the  main.  She  never  glossed  over  people's  care 
less  and  untidy  houses,  hers  was  always  neat  and  orderly. 
She  could  not  tolerate  indolence,  for  she,  a  rich  man's  daugh 
ter,  rose  with  the  sun  and  worked  all  day.  What  she  could  do 
without  actual  compulsion,  others  might  do  when  it  was  a 
necessity.  She  had  fed  the  hungry,  clothed  the  naked,  and 
ministered  to  the  sick,  and  in  one  circle  of  Dedham  she  was 
esteemed  as  little  less  than  a  saint.  Lucy  had  done  nothing 
of  this. 

Ah,  it  is  well  that  God's  eyes  are  not  as  severe  as  ours. 
How  often  our  weak  faith  is  staggered  at  some  mystery  as  we 
judge  by  a  few  broken  links,  but  God,  who  is  all-wise,  can  see 
the  end  from  the  beginning,  and  knows  all  the  blindness,  the 
weakness,  and  the  thorns  in  the  path  !  Well  for  us  that  it  is  so. 

The  great  wave  surged  back  again.  What  matter  for  the 
little  life  gone  out  ?  There  was  buying  and  selling,  eating  and 
drinking  for  those  who  were  left.  No  very  deep  wounds  to 
heal,  no  despairing  sense  of  loss  and  absence,  no  wail  from 
any  aching  heart.  Warren  Thorndike  went  his  ways  as  usual. 
Rachel  set  the  house  in  order,  and  by  degrees  the  luxuries 
that  had  so  offended  her  sight  were  disposed  of  in  a  quiet  man 
ner,  and  the  house  resumed  its  olden  aspect. 

There  was  one  man  who  did  not  believe  the  body  lying  in 
yonder  churchyard  to  be  that  of  Lucy  Thorndike.  This  was 
Vaughan  Marchmont.  He  had  been  stung  by  the  quiet  man 
ner  in  which  Lucy  had  put  aside  his  offer  of  friendship  and 
taken  her  fate  in  her  own  hands,  but  from  this  steady  persist 
ence  he  judged  that  she  was  not  one  to  commit  suicide.  He 
felt  quite  sure  that  she  was  hiding  somewhere,  and  he  had  a 
10* 


226  Lucia  :   Her  Problem. 

presentiment  that  he  should  some  day  discover  her.  There 
are  men  to  whom  every  thing  comes  sooner  or  later,  and  he 
was  of  this  class. 

It  was  just  as  well  that  the  rest  should  suppose  her  dead. 
When  he  met  her  again  he  would  like  to  have  the  secret  in  his 
own  hands. 

His  prospects  began  to  look  pretty  fair.  One  of  those 
sudden  impulses  of  trade  in  these  later  days  doubled  the  price 
of  iron  and  created  an  immense  demand.  He  smiled  over 
his  good  fortune.  Now  he  would  be  able  to  retire  from  bus 
iness  with  an  ample  income,  and  indulge  his  luxurious  as 
well  as  fastidious  tastes.  Lucy  Thorndike  was  still  in  the 
world  and  he  meant  to  find  her.  This  time  she  could  not  es 
cape  him. 

Mr.  Rutherford  returned  from  his  trip  abroad  to  be  shock 
ed  by  these  tidings  and  learn  that  he  had  been  about  the 
greatest  sufferer  by  the  rash  speculations.  Perhaps  if  every 
secret  deed  had  been  brought  to  light  some  of  Mr.  Marchmont's 
delicate  manipulations  would  illy  have  borne  the  scrutiny ;  but 
Warren  Thorndike  was  not  one  to  quarrel  with  the  sources  of 
the  golden  stream  flowing  so  steadily  into  his  coffers. 

Another  spring  smiled  over  Dedham,  another  summer 
bloomed  in  fragrance  and  beauty.  Of  course  curious  eyes 
were  turned  upon  Rachel  Garth  and  Warren  Thorndike.  Both 
his  losses  and  her  influence  had  proved  beneficial  to  him.  He 
no  longer  frequented  grand  dinners,  nor  even  drank  moderate 
ly.  A  sober,  steady-going,  middle-aged  man  he  became  sud 
denly,  and  transferred  his  religious  allegiance  to  Mr.  Howe. 
He  went  to  church  with  Rachel  and  her  father,  but  beyond 
that  the  most  prying  tea-table  gossip  could  find  nothing  for 
comment. 

They  were  not  demonstrative  people.  Mr.  Thorndike  had 
resolved  a  month  after  Lucy's  funeral  that  at  a  proper  time  he 
would  marry  Rachel.  He  had  been  a  great  fool  for  not  taking 
her  at  first  She  was  grave,  patient,  and  industrious,  and  began 


Lucia  :   Her  Problem.  227 

to  look  old  for  her  two-and-thirty  years,  but  on  the  whole  felt 
quite  well  satisfied  with  what  he  saw. 

So  one  June  day  he  asked  her  to  marry  him.  The  immense 
piles  of  bed  and  table  linen  were  in  order,  chests  of  garments 
laid  in  lavender  and  dried  rose  leaves.  There  was  very  little 
to  be  done,  and  a  month  later  she  became  Mrs.  Thorndike. 

Nothing  was  changed  in  the  house.  There  was  no  bridal 
tour  nor  display  of  silver,  the  black  garments  were  laid  aside 
and  a  soft  gray  substituted.  The  last  hopes  that  any  one  had 
cherished  concerning  Mr.  Garth  died  out.  He  was  ageing 
fast,  feeble  and  broken  in  health.  Indeed,  he  had  never  been 
the  same  man  since  Lucy's  death.  Rachel  looked  after  him 
as  one  would  a  child.  The  old  arbitrary,  dogmatic  ways  had 
slipped  off,  and  even  the  workmen  wondered  at  the  change. 

Through  the  summer  evenings  he  sat  on  the  porch  dream 
ing  idly  of  the  soft  hands  that  had  once  clasped  his  face,  of 
the  sweet  lips  that  had  touched  his.  He  seemed  to  forget  the 
trials,  the  bickerings,  the  many  times  that  she  had  defied  his 
authority.  A  hazy  memory  in  which  even  the  glimmer  of 
golden  curls  failed  to  rouse  his  indignation.  He  was  always 
glad  that  he  had  kissed  her  that  last  time. 

On  the  May  following  a  child  was  born  to  Rachel  and 
Warren  Thorndike,  a  fair,  golden-haired,  blue-eyed  girl ;  a  love 
ly,  soft,  waxen  thing,  that  seemed  rather  the  embodiment  of 
Lucy's  spirit,  than  that  of  her  parent's.  Rachel  was  bitterly 
disappointed  in  two  respects.  First,  that  there  should  have 
been  any  child  at  all,  for  she  had  no  motherly  love  or  longings  ; 
and  secondly,  that  it  was  a  girl.  A  boy  to  inherit  his  father's 
wealth  and  position  would  have  been  more  endurable. 

She  was  as  methodical  in  this  as  in  every  thing  else.  Her 
child  was  made  inexorably  subject  to  rule,  as  if  she  were  fol 
lowing  out  her  own  mother's  precepts.  And  yet  Rachel  could 
not  get  back  to  the  olden  routine.  A  weariness  and  languor 
oppressed  her.  The  nerves  that  had  been  like  iron  began  to 
relax.  The  work  she  had  never  minded  was  a  burden  to  her, 


228  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

though  she  tried  to  shake  off  the  feeling.  She  almost  grudged 
this  innocent  little  life  for  thus  sapping  her  strength.' 

Warren  Thorndike  might  have  grown  fond  of  his  little 
daughter  if  there  had  been  an  opportunity.  In  the  morning 
when  he  went  away  she  was  still  asleep,  and  at  noon  in  her  cra 
dle.  She  came  to  have  a  kind  of  frightened  baby  shrinking 
from  him,  and  he  did  not  study  any  tender  means  of  overcom 
ing  it. 

But  her  grandfather  made  amends  for  all.  It  was  marvel 
lous  how  deep  a  root  the  little  one  took  in  his  heart.  She  was 
a  strangely  quiet  baby,  and  would  sit  on  his  knee  for  an  hour 
studying  him  with  her  deep  eyes,  which  had  a  peculiar  twilight 
softness  in  their  sky  of  blue.  And  when  she  grew  old  enough 
to  tangle  her  tiny  fingers  in  his  hair  and  beard,  he  only  smiled. 

There  had  been  some  difficulty  about  her  name.  Mr.  Garth 
had  begged  for  Lucy  when  the  subject  was  first  discussed. 

"  There's  a  look  of  her  in  the  baby's  face,"  he  said  with  an 
absent,  dreamy  gaze. 

"  But  her  name  was  not  Lucy,  you  know,"  Rachel  rejoined 
almost  fretfully. 

"No.     We  always  called  her  that,  and  I  like  it." 

"You  didn't  then." 

Rachel  remembered  the  bitter  scenes  and  sharp  recrimina 
tions,  and  it  seemed  now. as  if  her  father  had  grown  childish. 
Could  he  so  easily  forget  ? 

He  sighed  and  looked  vacantly  out  of  the  window. 

"  But  I'd  like  to  have  it  Lucy,"  he  said  after  a  long  pause. 

Rachel  repeated  this  conversation  to  her  husband.  She 
really  was  not  pleased  with  the  proposal. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  one  name  is  as  good  as  another." 

She  glanced  at  him  curiously.  There  was  a  feeling  in  her 
mind  that  she  could  not  quite  explain,  an  objection  too  subtle 
and  far-reaching  to  be  put  in  words.  It  seemed  to  her  that  he 
ought  to  share  it. 

"  Yes.     You  don't  think  it  will  brins:  bad  luck  ?  " 


Lucia:  Her  Problem..  229 

"We  shouldn't  want  her  luck  for  the  child.  And  father 
fancies  that  she  looks  like  Lucy." 

"  She  was  handsome,  there's  no  denying  that,"  he  exclaim 
ed  with  a  little  chuckle.  "  There  was  some  strange  blood  in 
her  veins — you  always  said  her  mother  was  queer.  But  there's 
nothing  in  a  nam'\  Let  it  be  Lucy  or  Polly,  only  it  seems 
right  enough  to  humor  your  father." 

Perhaps  this  consideration  swayed  Rachel  ultimately,  for 
she  consented,  though  Mr.  Garth  began  to  call  her  Lucy  before 
she  was  christened.  She  seemed  the  one  thing  in  the  world 
to  him. 


Lucia :   Jler  Problem 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

REST     AND     REFUGE. 

FOUR  years  had  passed  since  the  summer  morning  on 
which  Lucy  Thorndike  had  said  good-by  to  her  sister. 
You  know  the  principal  events  that  had  taken  place  at  Ded- 
ham.  She,  though  still  alive,  was  ignorant  of  them  all.  For  a 
long  time  she  had  been  ill,  and  afterward  her  only  thought  had 
been  how  to  bury  herself  from  their  sight  forever  and  begin  a 
new  life. 

She  had  destroyed  every  trace  of  her  identity.  Her  illness 
had  been  utter  prostration  and  a  low  nervous  fever,  but  never 
so  severe  that  reason  swayed  on  its  throne.  When  she  recov 
ered  she  found  that  she  had  enough  to  remunerate  her  kind 
hostess,  and  she  was  thankful.  But  what  could  she  do  ? 

Her  first  essay  was  as  companion  and  seamstress  to  an  el 
derly  invalid.  This  corning  to  a  sudden  end,  she  took  a  va 
cant  village  school,  but  the  publicity  rendered  her  nervous  and 
ill  at  ease,  so  she  plunged  into  the  retirement  of  a  governess. 

She  settled  herself  at  last  in  a  quiet,  old-fashioned,  but  ex 
tremely  beautiful  town.  A  dreamy,  refined,  aristocratic  place, 
full  of  old  families  who  were  proud  of  their  pure  blood.  She 
came  to  sing  in  the  church,  which  was  a  miniature  cathedral* 
and  eked  out  her  income  by  teaching  music. 

This  really  good  fortune  had  come  to  her  through  the  inter 
vention  of  the  clergyman  and  his  wife.  The  Reverend  Cyrus 
Wilmor  was  a  Christian  gentleman  in  word  and  deed,  and  his 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  231 

wife  followed  his  good  example  with  fervent  faith.  When  he 
saw  a  good  work  lying  just  outside  of  his  path,  he  never  paused 
to  question  why  another  had  neglected  it,  but  went  at  it  with  gen 
tle,  yet  earnest  heart  and  truest  courage.  His  flock  loved  him 
like  a  father. 

He  had  exchanged  with  a  clerical  brother  and  was  to  spend 
a  week  with  an  old  friend,  Mr.  Knighton.  He  came  on  Sat 
urday  but  was  not  introduced  to  Miss  Mackenzie  until  Sunday 
morning,  when  the  household  were  called  in  to  prayers,  as  a 
special  attention  to  the  guest. 

She  had  taken  her  mother's  name  from  a  vague  fancy  that 
it  was  part  of  herself  and  less  of  a  deception  than  any  newly 
assumed.  And  she  had  also  come  to  feel  quite  at  home  under 
its  shadow. 

Lucia  was  neither  happy  nor  miserable  here  with  the 
Knightons.  Mrs.  Knighton  was  a  fashionable  and  superficial 
woman  who  paid  great  deference  to  society.  Not  infrequent 
ly  the  governess  was  reminded  of  Mrs.  Glenfield.  There 
were  two  girls  and  a  boy,  with  a  baby  in  the  nursery.  She 
tried  to  love  them  and  was  scrupulous  about  every  duty.  "  A 
quiet,  well-bred  person,"  Mrs.  Knighton  admitted. 

Up  to  this  period  of  her  life  she  had  been  nfirvous  and  ill 
at  ease  with  a  sense  of  hiding  away  from  danger  or  detection. 
Yet  she  felt  assured  that  those  most  interested  would  make 
no  search.  If  they  could  believe  her  dead,  she  would  ask  no 
more. 

She  sat  in  a  pew  back  of  Mrs.  Knighton,  keeping  watch 
and  ward  over  the  three  restless  children,  and  joining  in  the 
service  as  much  as  she  could.  Then  the  text  was  announ 
ced — 

"  He  shall  drink  of  the  brook  in  the  way,  therefore  shall 
he  lift  up  his  head." 

"  The  brooks  in  the  way  are  so  often  bitter  that  we  are  con 
tinually  tempted  to  turn  aside  and  find  something  more  pleas 
ant  to  the  taste,"  began  the  clear,  rich  voice,  and  though  she 


232  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

was  tired  when  sermon  time  came,  she  roused  herself  now  and 
listened. 

Was  it  for  her  alone,  picked  out  of  that  assembled  congre 
gation,  as  it  were  ?  For  she  had  gone  through  this  warfare 
and  defeat,  this  turmoil  and  struggle,  and  turned  aside  for 
something  pleasant  to  the  taste.  Yet  had  she  not  cried  for 
strength,  had  she  not  been  willing  to  do  her  duty  to  the  utter 
most  ?  Only  at  the  very  last,  when  the  deep  waters  seemed  to 
have  gone  over  her  soul,  and  the  bitterness  was  too  keen,  too 
stinging,  had  she  wandered  from  the  direct  path. 

Somewhere  he  came  to  quote  from  sweet,  quaint  George 
Herbert. 

"  God  takes  the  text  and  preaches  patience."  And  then 
he  explained  how  patience  was  the  brother  of  love,  and  that 
through  these  two  must  come  the  redemption  of  the  world ; 
that  the  souls  which  hearkened  were  brought  nearer  the  Infi 
nite  Love,  the  one  force  that  from  birth  to  death  could  move 
the  human  soul,  could  make  the  bitter  waters  of  trial,  perplex 
ity,  and  defeat,  sweet  to  the  taste,  purifying,  and  life-giving. 

She  did  not  go  in  the  afternoon  for  the  children  demanded 
her  attention.  Then  for  two  days  Mr.  Wilmer  was  much  engross 
ed  with  his  host  and  hostess. 

For  the  first  time  she  had  a  doubt  concerning  the  step  she 
had  taken,  yet  she  felt  that  it  was  too  late  to  go  back.  War 
ren  Thorndike  had  doubtless  repudiated  her.  And  what  could 
she  do  in  that  old  life  ! 

She  was  taking  her  afternoon  ramble  with  the  children,  who 
seemed  to  fret  her  until  every  nerve  was  strained,  when '  she 
came  across  Mr.  Wilmer  resting  under  a  great  sycamore. 

Something  in  the  sweet,  placid  face  won  her  as  it  had  on 
the  preceding  Sunday. 

He  noted  the  weariness  amounting  almost  to  despair,  the 
hunger  and  pain  bravely  borne,  he  would  have  said,  and  his  fa 
therly  heart  went  out  to  her.  So  he  called  the  children  and 
soon  had  them  romping  on  the  grass  around  him. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  233 

"  They  have  tired  you  exceedingly,"  he  said  in  his  kindly 
tone  that  was  sympathy,  not  blame. 

"  One  of  the  brooks  in  the  way,"  she  made  answer. 

He  smiled.     "  My  sermon  had  one  listener  then,"  he  said. 

It  had  been  so  long  since  Lucia  Mackenzie  had  dared  to 
talk  to  any  one, that  now  her  old  impulsiveness  lured  her  on. 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  understood  it,"  she  returned  in  per 
plexity.  "  Are  we  never  to  seek  to  evade  any  thing  ?  Why 
even  the  Saviour  prayed  that  his  cup  of  bitterness  might  pass." 

"But  He  bore  His  Cross  afterward." 

She  bowed  her  head  and  the  tears  came  to  her  eyes. 

"  My  child  ?"  he  said  much  moved,  "  is  there  any  cross  that 
I  can  help  you  to  bear.  It  is  our  duty  to  minister  to  those  who 
faint  by  the  wayside." 

She  was  drawn  to  him  as  she  never  had  been  to  Mr.  Glen- 
field.  She  saw  in  him  not  the  man  alone,  but  the  sacred  of 
fice,  and  took  courage. 

"I  have  been  studying  out  a  question  since — Sunday," 
Lucia  returned  slowly.  "  Suppose  one  had  unknowingly  done 
a  bitter  wrong,  and  at  last  saw  what  he  or  she  considered 
a  way  of  restitution.  This  person  might  remain  in  the  same 
place  and  bear  the  result  of  the  wrong  doing,  or  mistake,  mak 
ing  others  miserable,  or  give  up  all  and  go  away,  beginning  a 
new  life  as  it  were — " 

She  paused  there,  her  eyes  downcast  and  her  voice  trem 
ulous. 

"  I  should  say  that  it  was  better  for  the  person  to  give  up 
the  fruit  or  result  of  this  mistake,  if  the  sacrifice  was  purely  her 
own  and  no  one  else  suffered  ; "  he  replied  in  a  slow,  grave 
tone. 

"  I  think  others  were  benefited." 

"  Then  in  my  finite  judgment  it  does  not  seem  as  if  the 
step  was  to  be  condemned." 

His  words  appeared  to  lift  a  great  weight  from  her.  She 
quite  forgot  that  he  could  not  see  the  picture  ever  present  to 


234  Lucia:   Hvr  Problem. 

her  mind.  He  was  judging  from  other  and  more  trivial  mat 
ters. 

"  You  have  left  your  friends  ? "  he  said  presently. 

"Ah,  I  had  few  to  leave.     Not  one  who  cared,  perhaps." 

She  had  been  delicately  reared,  he  decided,  and  was  scarce 
ly  beyond  girlhood.  More  than  that  her  fair  high  bred  face 
looked  capable  of  sacrifice  and  suffering.  He  could  hardly  be 
lieve  her  wrong  in  any  step  that  she  might  take. 

"  I  shall  appropriate  the  other  part  of  the  sermon  then," 
Lucia  said  with  a  faint,  sad  smile. — "  God  takes  the  text  and 
preacheth  patience  !  " 

"  He  often  does  in  this  life,  my  child." 

The  young  group  were  growing  restless  again,  and  it  was 
time  to  return.  They  walked  homeward  together. 

For  the  next  two  days  Mr.  Wilmer  watched  Miss  Macken 
zie  narrowly,  but  there  was  nothing  obtrusive  in  it.  She  was 
not  pleasantly  situated,  that  he  could  see.  Her  beautiful  voice 
and  her  accomplishments  might  gain  for  her  an  easier  and 
more  congenial  position. 

Later  in  the  season  they  met  again  at  a  little  sea-side  resort 
where  she  was  keeping  the  children  while  their  mother  was  in 
the  midst  of  fashionable  dissipation.  He  had  Mrs.  Wilmer 
with  him  this  time,  and  the  two  women  became  friends  at  once. 

Two  months  later,  when  she  found  that  circumstances  were 
drifting  her  into  another  change,  she  summoned  courage  and 
wrote  to  him,  asking  advice.  He  saw  a  niche  into  which  she 
•would  fit  at  once,  and  drew  her  thitherward. 

Lucia  Mackenzie  was  introduced  into  Merecombe  under 
these  auspices.  She  sang  on  Sunday,  and  every  one  was 
charmed.  She  was  to  reside  with  Mrs.  Wilmer's  widowed  sis 
ter,  Mrs.  Preston,  and  had  already  been  promised  three  schol 
ars — the  two  Wilmer  children  and  Edith  Preston. 

Merecombe  was  on  the  line  of  a  railroad  that  connected 
two  distant  but  populous  cities.  This  seemed  to  bound  one 
side,  and  a  slow  flowing  river  the  other.  At  this  point  the  riv- 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  23a 

er  was  not  navigable  for  vessels  of  much  pretension,  though 
miles  below  it  was  alive  with  trade  and  commerce.  The  spot 
was  secluded,  without  being  at  all  lonely,  and  clustered  about 
on  every  side  with  romance  and  beauty.  The  march  of  busi 
ness  had  not  invaded  it,  the  whirr  and  hum  of  machinery  was 
never  heard.  Framed  in  like  a  picture,  it  slept  and  woke  with 
every  season,  quaint,  quiet  and  lovely. 

Lucia  Mackenzie  was  charmed  with  it  the  first  hour  she 
spent  within  its  precincts.  And  the' Sunday  was  like  a  blessed 
dream,  hallowing  all  her  days. 

Mr.  Wilmer  set  about  getting  his  protege,  established,  and 
met  with  excellent  success.  Her  high-bred,  lady-like  demea 
nor  commended  her  at  once — and  her  grace  and  sweetness  riv 
eted  the  charm.  Mr.  Maurice,  the  organist,  did  not  suspect 
the  usual  rival  in  her,  and  indeed  received  her  into  his  good 
graces  at  once. 

There  are  times  in  life  when  one  seems  to  cross  off  an  old 
score  and  begin  afresh.  Lucia  Mackenzie  had  awakened  to  a 
higher  sense  of  existence,  to  a  tenderness  and  sympathy  for 
her  kind.  It  might  have  happened  before,  had  her  lines  fallen 
in  pleasant  places.  And  now  there  was  no  feeling  or  intention 
of  deceit.  Because  she  could  not  explain  entirely,  she  never 
alluded  to  her  past.  Here  she  could  be  earnest,  truthful  and 
happy.  No  one  starved  her  on  the  one  hand,  or  offered  her 
husks  on  the  other.  It  seemed  indeed  an  opportunity  of  men 
tal  and  spiritual  salvation. 

It  was  a  summer  afternoon  now.  There  was  a  cluster  of 
youthful  figures  on  the  spacious  lawn  in  front  of  the  Gather- 
wood  Mansion,  and  two  or  three  ladies  sitting  in  easy-chairs 
on  the  porch.  The  eldest,  a  still  beautiful  woman,  past  sixty, 
fair,  placid,  and  with  a  beaming  face  that  might  easily  have 
hidden  the  shadow  of  a  dozen  years.  Ample  in  proportions, 
and  with  a  motherly  look  that  won  at  once. 

The  lady  opposite  was  much  more  slender  and  quite  dif 
ferent  in  appearance,  though  not  without  a  certain  delicate 


23G  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

loveliness.  Although  a  daughter-in-law  in  name,  for  many 
years  she  had  been  truly  a  child  to  Mrs.  Cathenvood.  Three 
of  the  girls,  and  the  young  man  in  the  group,  were  hers — and 
they  were  all  marked  by  the  soft,  dark  eyes,  and  fine,  glossy 
hair  of  a  rich  brown,  and  the  pure,  oval  face  of  their  mother. 

The  third  was  Lucia  Mackenzie.  She  stood  leaning  her 
arm  on  the  balcony  railing,  one  slender  foot  crossed  above 
the  other.  A  noticeable  peculiarity  of  hers  was  that  she  al 
ways  wore  black  or  white.  To-day  it  was  a  white  pique,  with 
black  braiding,  and  her  only  ornament  a  cluster  of  deep,  vel 
vety  crimson  buds  at  her  throat. 

Her  hair  was  brushed  plainly  above  her  ears,  and  worn  in 
a  large  coil  at  the  back  of  her  head.  It  was  like  threads  of 
softest  silk,  you  could  see,  and  the  complexion  was  clear  and 
fine.  Yet  an  indescribable  change  had  come  over  the  whole 
face.  In  these  years  her  sou]  had  grown  and  blossomed  there. 

She  was  looking,  as  they  all  were,  at  the  stranger  on  the 
lawn,  at  least  Miss  Mackenzie  had  never  seen  her  before. 

"My  granddaughter,  Miss  Sturtevant,''  Mrs.  Catherwood 
had  said. 

Miss  Mackenzie  knew  very  well  that  this  young  lady  had 
been  expected  for  the  summer.  She  was  to  be 'married,  and 
her  grandmother  had  insisted  upon  the  nuptials  taking  place 
at  Merecombe.  Indeed,  this  marriage  and  this  grandchild 
had  not  been  a  source  of  unmixed  pleasure  to  Mrs.  Cather 
wood. 

By  fragments  Lucia  had  heard  the  story.  Mrs.  Sturtevant 
had  gone  abroad  for  her  health,  and  died  th'ere.  Eleanor,  her 
only  daughter,  had  been  left  in  charge  of  some  cousins.  Mrs. 
Catherwood  had  implored  Eleanor's  guardian — her  father  had 
been  dead  some  years — to  go  for  her. 

There  had  been  several  deaths  before  in  the  family,  and 
now  Mrs.  Catherwood  was  childless.  Of  her  grandchildren, 
these  at  home  were  her  favorites.  Eleanor's  father  she  had 
never  cordially  liked,  though  she  kept  this  to  herself,  and  al- 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  237 

ways  treated  him  well.  This  daughter  had  been  proud  and 
imperious,  a  very  worldly  and  fashionable  woman — and  per 
haps  her  coldness  had  helped  to  estrange  the  mother's  heart. 

The  Sturtevants  were  very  fond  of  Eleanor,  and  unwilling 
to  relinquish  her.  Mrs.  Cathervvood  had  foreseen  this  and 
given  her  guardian  some  private  instructions  to  be  used  ac 
cording  to  his  judgment. 

Mrs.  Sturtevant's  illness  had  interfered  with  Eleanor's  tour, 
which  was  still  to  be  completed.  A  quiet  summer  among  the 
Alps  and  the  lakes,  a  winter  at  Rome — and  by  that  time,  her 
grief  having  abated,  her  cousins  thought  it  possible  that  Paris 
might  be  taken  in.  Mrs.  Catherwood  had  hardly  approved  of 
this  with  such  chaperones,  and  was  thankful  to  have  the  guar 
dian,  a  man  of  the  highest  honor  and  not  young,  connect  him 
self  with  the  party. 

Through  some  mismanagement  or  misfortune,  the  greater 
part  of  Eleanor  Sturtevant's  inheritance  had  been  swept  away. 
Paris  was  not  achieved — at  least  theirs  had  been  Paris  with 
out  the  gayety  that  renders  it  so  enchanting.  But  Miss  Sturte- 
vant  had  returned  home  the  betrothed  of  her  guardian. 

Mrs.  Catherwood  had  no  objection  to  this.  That  Eleanor 
should  stipulate  for  a  two  years'  engagement  was  not  at  all 
remarkable,  considering  that  she  was  but  eighteen.  The  in 
tervening  time  was  spent  partly  with  her  grandmother,  and 
partly  with  her  father's  relatives,  who  were  very  gay  people ; 
and  the  two  years  had  lengthened  themselves  into  four. 

It  was  rumored  that  Mrs.  Catherwood  had  taken  matters 
somewhat  into  her  own  hands.  The  lovers  were  summoned 
to  the  Oaks,  as  the  fine  old  place  was  called,  and  Miss  Sturte- 
vant  was  to  be  married  at  her  grandmother's  in  the  autumn. 

As  I  said,  Lucia  had  heard  this  in  fragments.  She  gave 
Frances,  Sophie,  and  Bel  Cathervvood  music  lessons,  and  was 
an  immense  favorite  with  the  old  lady.  When  Mrs.  Cather 
wood  announced  Miss  Sturtevant,  Lucia  looked  as  she  was  do 
ing  now. 


238  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  Do  ybu  think  her  handsome,  Miss  Mackenzie  ?  She  re 
sembles  her  father's  family  more  than  ours.  I  believe  I  never 
did  admire  very  dark  women." 

"  Yes,"  Lucia  said,  slowly,  "  she  is  very  handsome.  You 
would  not  call  her  pretty  nor  beautiful — those  terms  seem  too 
tame." 

The  elder  Mrs.  Catherwood  sighed  a  little. 

"  Fanny's  drooping  grace  and  sweetness  appear  more  ad 
mirable  to  me,  in  a  woman,"  she  returned. 

The  face  was  turned  towards  her,  and  Lucia  studied  it 
again.  It  was  proud,  haughty,  and  reminded  you  of  nothing 
so  much  as  fine  bronze — for  every  feature  seemed  to  have  been 
formed  in  some  delicate  mould — each  was  perfect  and  impas 
sible.  The  low  forehead  was  set  in  shadowy  masses  of  pur 
ple  black  hair,  the  eyes  were  deep  and  full  of  smouldering  fire, 
and  the  pupil  and  iris  being  so  nearly  of  a  color,  gave  them  a 
peculiarly  impenetrable  look,  as  if  they  might  baffle  you  for 
ever.  The  figure  was  full  of  affluent  beauty  and  grace,  and 
every  motion  displayed  a  polish  and  culture  that  one  rarely 
expects  in  so  young  a  woman. 

Something  about  her  filled  Lucia  with  a  strange  feeling  of 
distrust.  She  tried  to  shake  off  the  impression.  This  girl's 
life  and  hers  would  never  meet,  nor  cross  on  any  plane — they 
were  in  such  different  grooves,  so  why  should  she  care  ? 

"  I  believe  Eleanor  is  very  fascinating,"  said  the  younger 
Mrs.  Catherwood.  "Just  watch  how  George  listens  and  ad 
mires,"  and  the  mother  laughed,  with  careless  ease,  not  a  little 
proud  of  her  own  fine-looking  son. 

"  There  may  be  such  a  thing  as  too  much  fascination.  It 
is  a  dangerous  gift ; "  the  grandmother  returned,  with  some  as 
perity. 

"  Am  I  not  to  have  any  pupils  this  afternoon  ?  "  asked  Miss 
Mackenzie,  looking  at  her  watch. 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  quite  forgot  how  your  time  was  passing ;  so 
you  must  excuse  us  all." 


Lucia :   Her  Problem.  239 

Lucia  nodded  graciously.  Frances  was  summoned,  but 
Sophie  came  running  lightly  over  the  lawn  in  advance  of  her 
sister. 

"  Oh,  mamma,  George  wants  to  take  Eleanor  out  in  the 
boat.  The  tide  will  be  right  in  about  an  hour.  Can't  I  be 
excused  to-day  ? " 

"  My  dear  Sophie,  there  will  be  a  month  or  two  for  pleasure, 
and  when  Miss  Mackenzie  has  been  put  to  the  trouble  of  com 
ing,  it  is  hardly  right  to  make  her  errand  fruitless." 

"  But  there  will  be  two  lessons,  for  Bel  cannot  go.  And 
I'll  run  over  to  Mrs.  Preston's  to-morrow  morning  whenever 
Miss  Mackenzie  is  disengaged.  Do,  mamma  !  "  she  entreated. 

Lucia  smiled  her  assent,  and  Mrs.  Catherwood  finally 
agreed.  Frances  went  to  the  piano.  Through  the  French 
window  Miss  Mackenzie  could  see  the  lawn  and  Eleanor  Stur- 
tevant  coquetting  with  her  cousin.  She  wondered  why  she 
gave  it  so  harsh  a  name.  Eleanor  was  two  years  his  se 
nior,  a' finished  woman  of  the  world.  This  display  of  arts  and 
graces  might  be  natural  to  her,  but  was  it  not  also  a  trap  for 
the  unwary  ?  How  much  did  Eleanor  Sturtevant  care  for  her 
lover  ? 

Why  should  Lucia  Mackenzie  think  of  him  ?  Were  men 
so  loyal,  generous  and  noble  that  a  woman  might  freely  become 
a  champion  of  one  unknown  ?  He  had  doubtless  chosen  her 
for  her  beauty  and  elegance  ;  perhaps,  too,  for  the  passion  that 
one  might  rouse  in  such  a  tropical  nature.  Why  should  she 
care  ?  The  destiny  of  these  people  could  affect  her  but  little. 

Though  her  afternoon  work  was  shortened  she  still  lingered. 
Bel,  who  could  never  go  on  the  water  with  any  degree  of  pleas 
ure,  coaxed  her  for  some  songs,  and  Grandmother  Catherwood 
always  took  the  singing  as  a  great  luxury. 

It  was  quite  late  when  she  left  them.  Bel,  clinging  to  her 
arm,  went  clown  the  steps  laughing  in  her  gay,  girlish  way. 
Something  in  it  all,  the  eager  child,  the  sunset  quivering  low 
in  the  west,  the  delicious  air,  indeed  the  whole  scene  touched 


240  Lucia :   Her  Problem. 

her  in  a  peculiar  manner.  She  drew  a  long  breath  of  rap 
turous  content,  and  then  paused. 

"  Well,  Miss  Mackenzie  ?  "  with  laughing,  questioning  eyes. 
"  Shall  I  escort  you  back  ?  I  don't  see  why  you  couldn't  stay 
until  evening,  as  mamma  wished,  and  see  Eleanor  ? " 

That  was  like  bringing  a  shadow  over  the  perfect  scene. 

"  No,  I  could  not." 

"  But  you  stopped,  and  cast  a  lingering  look  backward." 

"  I  was  thinking  that  for  an  instant  I  felt  perfectly  happy 
and  contented,"  Lucia  responded. 

"  And  don't  you  always  ? " 

Bel  raised  a  wondering  glance  to  the  sweet  face. 

Lucia  laughed  then.  It  would  be  quite  impossible  to  ex 
plain  her  feelings  to  this  child,  and  Isabel  Catherwood  was  al 
ready  too  much  given  to  speculation. 

"I  suppose  moments  of  perfect  content  are  rare,"  she  an 
swered  carelessly.  "  And  now  you  must  say  good-by  to  me. 
See,  we  are  at  the  gate." 

"  I  wish  I  were  coming  to-morrow  instead  of  Sophie.  Miss 
Mackenzie,  I  should  like  to  be  rich,  and  a  queen.  I  should 
set  aside  a  portion  of  my  palace  and  keep  you  forever,  like 
some  wonderful  bird,  to  sing  to  me." 

Lucia's  voice  rippled  on  the  summer  air,  for  the  conceit 
amused  her. 

"  Good-night,"  she  said  and  turned,  and  came  face  to  face 
with  a  gentleman  standing  outside  of  the  gate. 

Bel  started  with  a  little  cry  of  surprise.  Lucia  Mackenzie 
turned  deadly  white,  and  shook  so  that  she  was  glad  to  grasp 
the  nearest  support. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Rutherford  !  Our  friend,  Miss  Mackenzie  ;  " 
for  he  was  studying  her  with  something  deeper  than  astonish 
ment  ;  and  Bel  ranged  herself  on  Lucia's  side,  as  if  she  need 
ed  some  defence. 

"  Miss  Mackenzie  is  a  past  acquaintance  of  mine  also,"  he 
returned  with  studied  calmness,  "  though  I  little  expected  to 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  241 

meet  her  here.  I  suppose  you  have  been  well  during  these 
years  ? " 

He  asked  the  question  absently.  He  was  too  much  sur 
prised  to  think.  Had  she  been  raised  from  the  dead ! 

"  Quite  well ;"  but  her  words  had  a  hollow,  tremulous  sound 
And  then  she  said,with  a  strange  recklessness — •"  You  remem 
ber  that  you  once  thought  my  voice  worth  cultivation  ?  Acting 
upon  your  advice,  I  have  made  it  of  service  to  myself,  at  least. 
And  now,  my  dear  pupil,  good-night,  again." 

She  nodded  to  Mr.  Rutherford,  turned,  and  was  gone. 
Swiftly  down  the  shaded  road  she  flew  until  breathless  with 
terror  and  fatigue.  Then  she  turned  into  a  by-path,  and  seat 
ed  herself  upon  a  stone,  covering  her  face  with  her  hands.  The 
old  existence  that  she  had  almost  forgotten,  rushed  back  upon 
her. 

Up  to  this  hour  there  had  been  nothing  to  alarm,  or  in  any 
wise  connect  her  with  the  past.  She  had  meant  to  blot  it  out 
and  commence  anew,  her  own  life  it  should  be.  Whether  they 
had  searched  for  her,  whether  they  thought  her  dead  or  not, 
she  never  knew.  No  word  had  passed  her  lips  that  could  be 
tray,  and  she  had  never  met  a  familiar  face. 

Yet  for  the  first  year  or  two  she  had  lived  in  constant  dread 
— and  indeed,  not  felt  entirely  free  until  she  came  to  Mere- 
combe.  In  this  sleepy  little  town,  so  far  removed  from  busi 
ness  or  fashionable  travel,  she  had  learned  to  consider  herself 
secure.  Day  by  day  the  sense  of  ease  and  enjoyment  had 
grown  upon  her.  Mrs.  Wilmer's  motherly  friendship,  and  Mrs. 
Preston's  tender  care,  were  so  delightful  to  experience.  She 
had  grown  happy  in  spite  of  herself.  Music  had  become  a  pas 
sion  with  her,  and  there  was  very  little  in  her  present  duties 
that  was  at  all  irksome.  Day  by  day  the  burden  became 
lighter,  until  an  hour  ago  she  was  unconscious  that  she  carried 
any. 

And  now  how  would  it  end  ?  She  did  not  for  a  moment 
imagine  that  Mr.  Rutherford  would  betray  her,  but  the  deli^ht- 
ii 


242  Lucia:    liar  Problem. 

ful  feeling  of  security  was  gone.  The  bright  sky  gloomed  over 
in  an  instant. 

"  I  was  too  happy  and  careless  ; "  she  sighed,  and  yet,  if 
she  had  been  ever  so  watchful,  could  she  have  foreseen  this  ? 

The  dim  rays  of  twilight  clustering  about  the  trees  sur 
prised  her  at  length,  and  she  rose  wearily.  A  wild  impulse 
urged  her  to  flight  again,  but  she  knew  that  would  be  fol 
ly.  Why  should  she  distrust  one  who  had  proved  so  kind  a 
friend  ? 

"  An  hour  ago  I  was  so  happy ;"  she  still  moaned,  gather 
ing  in  the  coming  darkness  shadows  for  her  own  life  that  had 
always  lain  on  the  bitter,  wintry  side  of  fate. 

At  length  she  started  wearily  homeward.  Mrs.  Preston 
and  Edith  had  gone  out  to  tea.  She  was  thankful  to  be  alone  ; 
and  she  made  her  headache  an  excuse  for  going  immediately 
to  her  room. 

She  waited  the  coming  of  Sophie  Catherwood  with  feverish 
impatience  the  next  morning ;  and  when  it  grew  late,  she  tor 
mented  herself  with  a  thousand  fears.  These  people  consid 
ered  her  a  friendless  orphan.  She  had  never  said  so — but  they 
had  some  way  taken  it  for  granted ;  and  if  they  heard  the  truth 
now,  would  they  not  think  her  a  base  impostor  ?  Oh,  far  bet 
ter  fly,  than  be  disgraced  before  them  all. 

Sophie  made  her  appearance  in  the  gayest  of  spirits.  They 
had  been  riding  with  Mr.  Rutherford,  and  gone  farther  than 
they  intended. 

"  But  it  was  so  delightful !  Miss  Mackenzie,  if  he  were  ten 
years  younger,  I  believe  I  should  envy  my  cousin  Eleanor ! " 

"  Envy  her  ? "  Lucia  repeated,  in  a  vague  manner. 

"  Yes.     He  is  her  affianced,  you  know." 

"  No  ;  I  did  not/' 

The  room  swam  round  to  Lucia  Mackenzie.  Her  friend 
the  husband  of  that  haughty  girl ! 

"  Yes,  it  is  rather  odd.  He  was  very  generous  to  her  some 
way  about  her  fortune,  and  I  suppose  she  fell  in  love  with  him. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  243 

And  yet  I  have  a  fancy  that  it  isn't  a  very  warm  or  extravagant 
love,"  Sophie  ended,  after  some  consideration. 

Lucia  silently  pointed  out  several  mistakes. 

It  was  hardly  strange  that  she  had  not  heard.  Frances 
Catherwood  had  been  her  only  pupil  until  latterly,  for  the  two 
younger  ones  were  at  school,  and  there  had  been  no  reason  for 
discussing  family  affairs  before  her.  She  remembered  now 
that  they  generally  said  "  Eleanor's  guardian." 

The  engagement  appeared  to  her  as  incongruous.  It  was 
not  such  a  one  as  she  fancied  Mr.  Rutherford  likely  to  make, 
and  yet  she  confessed  that  her  knowledge  of  the  man  was  rath 
er  limited.  And  then  she  knew  very  little  of  his  ways  of 
society. 

"  And  it's  so  singular  that  you  should  have  been  acquaint 
ed  with  him,  Miss  Mackenzie  !  "  Sophie  paused,  with  her  fin 
ger  poised  over  a  key,  and  glanced  around.  "  He  was  telling 
us  last  night." 

"  What  !  "  she  asked,  almost  hoarsely. 

"  How  odd  you  are,  Miss  Mackenzie  1  Was  he  ever  your 
lover  ?  Oh,  pardon  me  !  " 

The  face  was  covered  with  blushes  and  contrition.  She 
had  asked  the  question  in  her  eager,  thoughtless  way,  and  was 
both  sorry  and  ashamed. 

"  No,"  Lucia  returned  in  a  cold,  even  tone.  "  We  were  the 
merest  acquaintances.  He  gave  me  some  useful  hints  con 
cerning  my  future.  This  was  before  he  went  abroad,  and  I 
have  not  seen  him  since." 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  offend  you.  It  was  unpardonably 
rude,  and  I  am  very  sorry.  Dear  Miss  Mackenzie,  please  for 
give." 

"  I  am  not  offended,  but  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  you  so 
careless  before  your  cousin  or  Mr.  Rutherford.  And  now  we 
will  have  a  little  better  attention  to  the  lesson." 

Sophie  soon  recovered  her  wonted  ease,  but  Miss  Macken 
zie  was  quiet  to  constraint. 


244  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

"  You  are  quite  sure  that  you  have  forgiven  me  ?  "  Sophie 
asked  as  she  rose  to  go.  "  I  am  certain  that  Mr.  Rutherford 
is  noble  enough  for  any  woman.  I  like  him  so  much." 

"  Yes,"  was  the  brief  answer ;  and  now  let  us  dismiss  the 
subject." 

She  watched  the  young  girl  out  of  sight  before  she  turned. 
What  was  there  in  the  thoughtless  words  to  disturb  her  so 
much  ? 

She  had  made  her  defence  almost  in  the  dark.  Whether  Mr. 
Rutherford  had  been  questioned  and  what  he  had  said  were 
alike  unknown  to  her,  but  she  had  counted  strongly  upon  his 
loyalty.  She  shrank  from  facing  him  there  at  the  Oaks,  in  the 
presence  of  others,  and  possibly  his  betrothed.  Her  very 
breath  seemed  to  strangle  her  at  the  thought,  and  every  pulse 
quivered  in  great,  frightened  bounds.  It  seemed  as  if  she 
were  waiting  for  judgment,  for  a  summons  that  would  bring  her 
forth  from  her  hiding-place. 

The  right  and  wrong  of  her  step  she  had  never  paused  to 
consider.  The  life  had  become  unendurable,  and  she  had 
taken  the  sharp  and  perhaps  doubtful  remedy  in  her  own 
hands.  Those  old  days  came  back  to  her  like  a  dream  that 
she  had  striven,  oh  so  hard,  to  forget,  and  now  for  the  first 
time  she  shuddered  with  a  vague  dread  of  the  consequences  of 
her  rashness. 

She  brought  her  sewing  to  the  sitting-room,  as  if  she  was 
fearful  that  her  absence  might  awaken  suspicion.  A  nameless 
terror  struck  at  her  very  soul,  and  she  seemed  only  to  breathe 
on  sufferance.  What  was  there  in  the  dark  future  for  her  ? 

Mrs.  Preston  chatted  in  her  usual  low,  graceful  fashion. 
Music,  literature  and  art  were  her  topics,  for  she  was  strongly 
interested  in  all  three.  But  to-day  her  companion  was  silent. 
Edith  had  gone  over  to  her  aunt's,  so  they  finished  the  morning 
alone.  Dinner  was  quiet  enough,  and  then  Mrs.  Preston  re 
tired  for  her  customary  rest. 

"  You  do  not  look  well  to-day,  my  dear,"  she  said  kindly. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  245 

Lucia  shrank  from  the  sympathy  that  would  have  been  so 
dear  at  any  other  time. 

"  I  have  a  headache,"  she  replied  listlessly. 

"  You  had  better  lie  down  and  take  a  rest." 

Instead  she  went  to  her  room  and  changed  her  dress.  A 
presentiment  was  strong  upon  her  that  Mr.  Rutherford  would 
make  some  effort  to  see  her.  She  stationed  herself  by  a  win 
dow  overlooking  the  road,  and  as  the  house  stood  on  an  emi 
nence  she  could  see  the  winding  way  for  a  long  distance  edg 
ing  the  waving  fields  and  shadowy  woods. 

How  long  she  watched  she  never  remembered.  One  after 
another  passed,  and  at  last  a  familiar  figure  came  sauntering 
slowly,  casting  an  occasional  glance  toward  the  hill.  She  went 
down  then,  tied  on  her  broad  sun-hat  and  left  the  house,  for 
she  must  see  him  quite  alone. 


246  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

FACING    DESTI  N  Y. 

A  LITTLE  strip  of  woods  lay  between,  and  Paul  Ruther 
ford  looked  at  it  longingly — its  green  glooms  and  mossy 
ways  were  in  strong  contrast  tc  the  sunny  road  without.  The 
flutter  of  a  white  dress  caught  his  eye,  and  he  paused,  startled 
by  the  apparition. 

Lucia  Mackenzie  was  nearly  as  white  as  her  dress.  The 
wild  eyes  were  frightened  and  imploring. 

"  Oh ! "  he  exclaimed,  struck  by  her  pain  and  terror,  "  you 
might  trust  me  !  I  was  once  your  friend  !  " 

She  gave  him  a  keen,  searching  glance.  Every  pulse  to 
her  very  finger  ends  trembled  and  throbbed.  He  came  near 
er,  and  took  her  hand,  cold  on  this  brilliant  summer  day. 

"If  I  was  surprised  last  night,  remember,  I  —  they  all 
thought  you  dead." 

"  Yes.     You  have  been  there  ?  " 

"  To — "  but  he  did  not  utter  the  word.  "  Yes,  I  was  abroad 
nearly  a  year.  The  business  required  my  presence." 

She  flushed  through  all  her  paleness. 

"  You  were  the  greatest  sufferer,"  she  made  answer.  "  I 
used  to  think  of  you  in  that  dreary  time.  I  believe  he  meant 
to  be  fair  and  honest  in  the  beginning — but  his  brain  was  daz 
zled  by  the  brilliant  prospects.  And  when  the  crash  came, 
each  one  considered  only  his  own  losses." 

"  It  might  have  been  worse.  I  saved  a  little  from  the  wreck 
— but  those  on  the  spot  were  more  successful." 


Lucia:   Her  JProblem.  247 

"You  have  seen — " 

Her  voice  died  away.  They  had  both  unconsciously  turned 
toward  the  wobds,  and  now  he  pointed  to  a  mossy  stone. 

"  Sit  here,"  he  said,  in  his  olden  tone  of  tender,  yet  firm 
command.  "  You  are  weak  and  agitated.  Yes,  I  saw  them  all 
less  than  six  months  ago.  They  were  well." 

"  Thank  you."     She  was  strangely  glad  to  hear  even  that. 

He  looked  at  her  curiously.  How  much  of  the  Dedham 
doings  did  she  know? 

"  What  have  you  heard  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Nothing.  I  went  away  one  morning.  Perhaps  they  think 
me  dead." 

"They  do." 

"  Thank  God  ! "  She  uttered  the  words  reverently,  with 
bowed  head  and  clasped  hands. 

"  But  there  was  a  strange  mistake  about  it.  They  found 
some  garments  which  were  identified  as  yours — and  the  body 
of  a  drowned  woman,  supposed  to  be  yours  also  It  was  bur 
ied  in  the  churchyard.  There  was  no  reason  to  question  the 
story — and  I  believed  it  with  the  rest.  My  amazement  last 
night  was  unbounded ;  and  if  I  betrayed  too  much,  forgive 
me.  It  was  well  that  I  heard  your  voice  before  I  saw  your 
face." 

"  I  wanted  to  be  dead  to  them  !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  a 
touch  of  the  old  vehemence.  "  Ah,  I  see  that  your  eyes  con 
demn — but  if  those  dreary  days  had  been  yours,  and  a  woman's 
life,  too—" 

He  was  thinking  of  the  strange  complication  that  had  aris 
en.  Should  he  tell  her  that  a  wife  and  child  filled  her  place  ? 

"  Oh,  you  don't  know — you  never  can  !  It  was  like  a  death 
in  life.  He  did  not  starve  me,  nor  beat  me,  but  he  shut  out 
all  the  brightness  until  my  very  hours  became  intolerable. 
From  morning  until  night,  from  week  to  week !  It  is  like  a 
horrible  dream  even  now." 

"  You  excite  yourself  fearfully." 


248  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

**  I  went  away  to  die.  I  was  a  trouble  to  them  all,  and  I 
saw  it.  Oh,  you  will  not  send  me  back  ? " 

"  My  poor  child,  no.  Do  not  distress  yourself  needlessly. 
It  would  be  all  too  late  for  such  a  step." 

"  He  does  not  want  me.  Perhaps  it  was  my  fault  at  first. 
Oh,  Mr.  Rutherford,  why  are  we  so  blind  in  youth  ?  I  thought 
then,  that  if  he  was  kind  and  cared  for  me  tenderly,  I  should 
need  nothing  more." 

He  looked  at  her  pityingly.  Still  so  young  and  so  lovely, 
and  yet  barred  out  of  the  choicest  joys  of  life — hiding  away 
like  a  criminal.  With  her  gifts  and  graces,  so  finely  fitted  to 
be  the  charm  of  some  happy  home  circle — so  warm  and  tender 
of  heart,  and  doomed  to  be  forever  alone.  It  was  hard. 

"  You  needed  love ; "  he  said,  musingly. 

"I  suppose  nearly  all  women  do.  I  never  had  any  at 
home  by  which  I  could  test  his — but  when  I  failed  to  make 
him  happy,  and  my  own  life  was  only  a  curse,  I  wanted  to  be 
away  from  it  all.  Do  you  think  they  cared  ? " 

"  We  did  not  meet  on  the  friendly  terms  of  the  past. 
I  have  seen  very  little  of  Mr.  Thorndike,"  he  answered,  eva 
sively. 

"  I  want  you  to  believe  that  it  was  no  plot,  no  part  of  the 
scheme  that  you  were  asked  to  become  his  guest.  I  think  I 
would  have  died  sooner  than  lend  myself  to  such  treachery. 
He  expected  to  realize  a  grand  fortune  for  all." 

Mr.  Rutherford  smiled.  This  courage  and  honesty  of  pur 
pose  touched  him. 

"  I  did  not  blame  Mr.  Thorndike  so  much  for  that.  Per 
haps  we  all  thought  the  same.  The  business  looked  very  fair 
when  I  left  it.  We  could  not  foresee  the  great  revulsion  that 
came  before  we  \*ere  prepared.  I  only  complain  of  the  after 
treatment.  Some  came  out  of  the  wreck  better  than  I ;  and  it 
was  so  long  before  I  could  learn  the  truth." 

"  I  was  more  than  sorry.  I  used  to  think  of  it  so  much — 
and  of  you." 


Lucia:  He?  Problem.  249  - 

That  was  Lucy  Thorndike's  face.  It  took  him  back  to 
hours  that  he  had  said  long  ago  it  was  wiser  to  forget. 

"  But  you  have  told  me  nothing  about  yourself." 

"  Do  you  care  to  hear  ? " 

"Yes,  all.  It  is  like  one  coming  back  from  the  dead, 
for  me." 

She  smiled  sadly,  and  mused  awhile  with  downcast  eyes. 
Should  she  tell  him  where  her  path  had  crossed  lines  with  an 
other's  ? 

To  do  her  the  simplest  justice  that  last  hour  with  Vaughan 
Marchmont  had  made  a  very  faint  impression  on  her  mind  ; 
and  in  the  swift  rush  of  more  important  events,  it  had  been  for 
gotten.  She  remembered  only  that  he  had  asked  from  her  a 
useless  friendship,  and  left  him  out  of  the  account. 

Much  as  Mr.  Rutherford  longed  to  question,  delicacy  kept 
him  silent.  So  he  listened  to  her  story,  beginning  from  the 
morning  when  she  had  left  Dedham.  She  made  it  brief,  and  left 
out  many  of  its  pangs — but  its  truth  no  one  could  doubt. 

"  And  you  were  learning  to  be  happy  ? " 

His  eyes  questioned  her  so  intently  that  it  brought  the 
warm  color  to  her  face. 

"  I  was  content.  The  ease  and  freedom  of  this  life,  its 
many  quiet  pleasures  and  few  cares,  lulled  me  into  repose. 
But  now — " 

"And  now?"  he  asked.  "What  difference  should  my 
coming  make  ? " 

"  You  do  not  condemn  me  ? " 

"  The  step  is  irrevocably  taken.  I  should  be  the  last  to 
advise  your  going  back  to  Warren  Thorndike." 

He  could  not  bring  his  mind  to  tell  her  of  the  insuperable 
barrier  between. 

"  And  you  think  that  I  have  a  right  to  stay  here,  that  it  is 
not  base  treachery  to  appear  other  than  I  am.  To  me  it  was 
like  the  beginning  of  a  new  womanhood.  I  took  the  name  my 
mother  gave  me — I  had  never  been  called  by  it  before,  and  it 


250  Lucia:   He)'  Problem. 

was  the  dawn  of  a  higher  life.  Some  of  its  lessons  I  owe 
to  you." 

Should  he  praise  or  blame  ?  With  a  man's  cautiousness 
he  could  not  quite  approve  the  step,  and  yet  perhaps  it  had 
been  her  salvation. 

"  Why  should  you  not  remain  here  ? "  he  said  slowly.  "  You 
have  found  warm  and  true  friends.  There  is  freedom,  ease, 
and  security." 

He  uttered  this  last  to  reassure  her  trembling  faith.  What 
a  strange  life  hers  had  been. 

There  was  a  world  of  entreaty  in  the  glance  she  gave  him, 
but  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  pain  him  by  a  question  that 
would  imply  distrust. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  understand.  It  is  not  merely  a  secret 
with  me,  but  a  sacred  trust.  You  will  find  that  nothing  of  the 
past  has  been  betrayed.  If  I  was  startled  out  of  self-posses 
sion  last  night  I  bethought  myself  in  a  moment  of  all  you  must 
have  at  stake,  and  spoke  of  the  past  as  an  incidental  acquaint 
ance." 

"  Thank  you." 

There  was  a  wistful  look  still  remaining  in  the  shadowy 
eyes.  Did  she  care  to  hear  about  him  ? 

Ah,  what  could  he  tell  her? 

There  came  to  him  at  that  instant  a  strange  revelation. 
This  woman  listening  with  drooping  eyes  and  parted  lips  that, 
did  not  smile,  held  for  him  a  subtle  and  far-reaching  charm. 
He  had  always  associated  her  with  another,  and  he  was  much 
too  loyal  to  allow  fancy  to  stray  in  a  lawless  manner.  But  if 
both  could  be  free,  and  he  were  to  meet  her  for  the  first  time. 

He  drew  himself  up  with  a  gesture  that  was  almost  haughty. 
Well  that  she  did  not  see  it,  for  now  her  face  was  half  averted. 

"  You  have  heard,"  he  began  in  a  clear,  calm  tone,  "  that 
I  am  to  be  married  in  the  autumn  ? " 

"  Yes.  I  hope  you  may  be  happy,"  she  added  after  a  pause, 
and  he  little  guessed  the  fear  tugging  at  her  heart. 


Lucia:  liar  Problem.  251 

Was  there  any  question  in  her  mind  ? 

"  You  have  seen  Miss  Sturtevant  ? " 

"Yes.     She  is  a  very  handsome  woman." 

"  I  do  not  want  you  to  think  that  I  was  won  altogether  by 
beauty." 

"  No,  I  cannot  imagine  that.  A  woman  must  have  some 
graces  of  heart  or  soul  to  charm  you — at  least  I  used  to  be 
lieve  so." 

She  gave  him  one  of  her  bright,  fearless  looks. 

"  You  may  believe  it  still,"  he  returned  gravely. 

"  And  the  business  at — " 

"  It  will  not  be  a  total  loss.  The  prospect  is  fairer  now 
than  at  any  time.  If  the  money  had  been  all  my  own  I  would 
have  cared  less." 

She  felt  assured  that  whatever  happened  Warren  Thorn- 
dike  would  prosper.  Let  the  past  all  go  then,  since  one  could 
not  choose  the  recipients  of  fortune.  And  remembering  what 
had  been  said  concerning  his  generosity  to  Miss  Sturtevant, 
she  did  him  honor  in  her  heart. 

Yet  the  old  friendship  so  suddenly  restored  must  end  as 
briefly.  The  fact  gave  her  heart  a  wrench.  So  she  rose  from 
her  seat. 

He  would  not  detain  her.  He  was  too  wise  a  man  to  try 
his  strength  in  foolish  tests. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  giving  me  audience  here,"  he  said. 
"Was  it  by  accident  ? " 

"  No ;  I  knew  you  would  come,  and  I  watched.  From 
my  window  I  could  see  the  turn  in  the  road.  I  thought  it 
better." 

"  It  was." 

"  I  cannot  put  my  gratitude  into  words,"  she  said  in  a  low, 
faltering  voice.  "  There  are  some  hours  in  our  lives  that  I 
shall  always  remember.  Wish  me  well — that  is  all." 

Then  she  too  recognized  the  barrier  that  it  was  best  for 
both  to  respect  to  the  fullest  extent ! 
7 


252  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  God  knows  my  best  prayers  will  be  for  you.  If  this  path 
grows  tiresome  and  dreary,  He  can  only  comfort  you." 

He  studied  once  more  the  slender,  drooping  figure,  the 
arm  that  hung  listless,  and  yet  were  the  perfection  of  grace, 
the  soft  golden  hair  blown  about  by  the  summer  wind,  the 
small  scarlet  mouth  and  deep  eyes  with  their  hidden  and 
wondrous  fire.  Would  any  soul  ever  sun  itself  at  the  full 
rays  ? 

"  A'dieu,  my  little  friend.     God  bless  you  !  " 

Yet  she  was  the  first  to  turn  to  leave  the  spot,  though  it 
seemed  to  wrench  every  fibre  of  her  being.  Why  ?  she  asked 
herself  in  dismay.  They  would  meet  again,  and  perhaps  she 
should  see  him  happy. 

She  took  the  homeward  path  with  swift  steps.  Silently 
she  entered  the  house  and  sped  to  her  room.  More  than  an 
hour  had  elapsed  since  she  left  it,  and  in  her  contradictory 
emotions  it  seemed  both  brief  and  long.  The  shadow  that 
had  hung  over  her  since  last  night  was  lifted,  but  in  its  stead 
had  come  a  blindness  such  as  the  flash  of  lightning  leaves  in 
its  wake. 

Groping  through  it  she  knew  the  truth.  The  love  that 
might  have  redeemed  her  soul  was  a  splendid  possibility  missed. 
Too  soon  and  too  late.  This  man  she  could  have  loved  had 
fate  been  less  cruel. 

It  was  the  first  dawning  of  passion,  but  it  laid  quiescent  in 
her  soul  from  very  hopelessness.  She  did  not  even  rebel 
against  its  sway  that  seemed  to  rend  her  with  agony,  but  bow 
ed  her  head  to  the  storm  and  let  the  waves  of  despair  sweep 
over  her.  Even  if  he  were  free  she  would  have  no  right  to 
isten. 

Going  carefully  over  the  past  she  could  find  no  place  where 
a  word  or  look  had  betrayed  any  feeling  deeper  than  a  friend 
ly  interest.  She  experienced  a  strange  pride  in  this  fact,  for 
in  her  heart  he  was  always  to  stand  without  a  peer.  When  he 
had  saved  her  from  another  dangerous  temptation  it  had  been 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  253 

from  no  selfish  tenderness,  but  the  highest  motive,  her  own 
good. 

She  also  realized  now  why  it  would  have  been  impossible 
for  her  to  love  Marchmont.  The  volatile  fancy,  the  love  for 
grace,  beauty  and  refinement  that  wa^s  a  part  of  her  nature  had 
been  answered  in  his  many  fascinations,  but  the  depths  of  her 
soul  required  something  nobler  and  truer.  It  had  been  noth 
ing  deeper  than  a  pleasure  of  the  senses,  and  with  her  princi 
ples  could  never  have  led  her  astray  no  matter  how  trying  the 
emergency  might  be. 

Yet  when  she  thought  of  Eleanor  Sturtevant  she  trembled 
for  Mr.  Rutherford's  happiness.  Why  indeed?  Was  it  not 
unreasonable,  and  perhaps  savoring  of  jealousy  to  thus  dis 
trust  a  woman  of  whom  she  knew  absolutely  nothing  ? 

She  came  back  to  her  sweet  and  gracious  mood.  Edith 
Preston  had  invited  some  friends,  whom  she  charmed  as  she 
had  many  times  before,  with  her  lovely  voice.  She  had  ceased 
to  struggle  against  fate,  and  she  knew  that  her  secret  was  safe 
in  Paul  Rutherford's  hands. 

Still  she  dreaded  her  next  advent  at  the  Oaks.  She  need 
not.  Mr.  Rutherford  had  left  that  morning,  but  his  beautiful 
betrothed  appeared  in  very  gay  spirits.  She  and  her  cousin 
George  rambled  about  the  lawn  or  made  a  pretence  of  croquet. 
Mrs.  Catherwood  kept  them  well  in  sight.  Her  eyes  were  not 
dim  or  easily  deceived. 

This  evening  they  succeeded  in  persuading  Miss  Macken 
zie  to  remain  to  supper.  Mr.  Rutherford  was  quite  a  topic  of 
interest  for  them  all. 

"  The  marriage  is  to  be  early  in  October,"  Frances  whis 
pered  in  confidence.  "  All  the  trousseau  is  to  be  ordered,  for 
Eleanor  declares  that  she  hates  looking  after  such  matters.  It 
seems  to  me  that  it  would  be  delightful." 

Lucia  sighed  a  little.  How  often  girls  lost  sight  of  the  se 
riousness  of  the  step  in  its  captivating  adjuncts!  And  then 
she  remembered  her  own  ill-fated  nuptials. 


254  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

Quiet  and  eventful  days  they  were  after  her  startling  sur 
prise.  It  appeared  very  much  like  a  dream  to  her,  and  some 
times  she  almost  wondered  whether  she  had  ever  been  any 
person  besides  Lucia  Mackenzie  !  For  she  could  not  help  rev 
elling  in  the  summer's  bloom  and  beauty,  and  smiling  at  the 
rosy  hours. 

She  had  kept  up  her  olden  habit  of  rambling.  Mrs.  Pres 
ton  was  frequently  her  companion,  but  she  was  never  deterred 
by  loneliness.  So  one  afternoon,  perhaps  a  fortnight  later,  she 
sought  her  favorite  nook  with  a  volume  of  poems.  A  small 
eminence,  for  Merecombe  was  full  of  tiny  hills  and  valleys, 
shaded  by  great  trees  and  carpeted  with  velvety  turf.  Below 
ran  a  stream  that  plashed  musically  over  the  stones  in  its 
way. 

She  threw  herself  on  the  grass,  leaning  her  elbow  upon  a 
ledge  of  moss  grown  rock.  The  glowing  sun  was  sifted  through 
the  leaves  by  the  softest  of  summer  winds  that  merely  stirred 
them  to  a  whisper.  Bees  droned  in  the  distant  clover  fields, 
and  occasionally  some  bird  overhead  dropped  a  tender  trill  of 
floating  melody.  Reclining  there  in  luxurious  solitude,  her 
brain  seemed  to  fill  with  shadowy  remembrances  until  it  was 
lost  in  the  hush  of  loveliness. 

How  long  she  had  hovered  on  the  verge  of  slumber  she 
hardly  knew,  but  she  was  startled  by  a  sharp,  discordant  laugh. 

"  And  you  believed  this  ? "  a  voice  said. 

"  I  believed  you  loved  me !  "  was  the  answer  in  a  deep, 
passionate  tone.  "  Have  you  not  told  me  so  ?  Have  you  not 
drawn  me  to  your  side,  let  me  lie  at  your  feet  and  tell  over  my 
wild  dreams,  enchained  me  by  a  glance  of  your  eye  ?  Oh,  it 
must  be  true !  Surely  women  cannot  so  deceive !  " 

There  was  a  pathetic  earnestness  that  touched  Lucia  Mac 
kenzie.  And  yet  she  would  fain  have  fled  if  she  had  known  in 
what  direction  she  would  be  sure  to  miss  these  two  in  their 
discussion. 

"  But  you  know  what  I  told  you  ? " 


Lucia  :  Her  Problem.  255 

"  A  story  of  paltry  gratitude — " 

"  Not  that  alone.  I  once  informed  you  that  I  could  never 
marry  any  poor  man." 

"  But  I  am  no  longer  poor." 

"  A  few  thousands  ! "  and  again  a  scornful  laugh. 

"  Eleanor,  you  madden  me  !  Did  you  not  once  admit  that 
your  fancy  for  him  had  perished  ?  I  am  young,  and  all  I  ask 
of  fate  is  a  fair  chance  and  I  will  yet  lay  a  fortune  at  your  feet. 
And  he  will  give  you  up  if  you  tell  him  the  truth.  No  man 
would  claim  an  unwilling  bride  !  " 

,It  was  Eleanor  Sturtevant,  then !  For  a  moment  Lucia 
seemed  stunned,  and  the  voices  were  only  a  murmuring  sound 
to  her  ear,  the  man  madly  loving  and  protesting,  the  woman 
imperious  and  scornful. 

"  No,  you  shall  never  marry  Paul  Rutherford  !  "  he  declared 
in  a  louder  key.  "  I  will  go  to  him,  I  will  confess  the  whole 
story,  our  stolen  meetings,  our  promises,  and  our  love,  for  you 
have  loved  me.  I  will  demand  your  freedom.  You  shall  not 
escape  me." 

There  was  an  awful  silence.  The  hush  even  fell  over  the 
trees,  and  nothing  save  the  ripple  of  the  stream  was  heard. 
Lucia  held  her  breath  in  sympathy. 

"All  that  might  not  make  me  marry  you,"  she  returned  in 
a  light,  mocking  tone.  "  Indeed,  it  is  possible  that  I  might 
hate  you  for  your  interference." 

"But  love  is  stronger  than  hate." 

"  Is  it  ? "  and  she  laughed  satirically.  "  Suppose  I  say  that 
my  love  for  you  was  a  mere  passing  fancy,  and  has  perished  ! 
Women  are  proverbially  fickle." 

"  Well,  you  will  never  marry  him  !  I  would  come  from  the 
ends  of  the  earth  to  prevent  it." 

"  Listen,  Harold,"  she  began  more  calmly.  "  That  I  once 
loved  you  I  will  admit,  but  I  am  firmly  convinced  that  we  could 
not  be  happy  together.  Still,  I  will  let  you  learn  the  truth  for 
yourself.  Take  your  journey.  Study  the  beautiful  women  you 


256  Lucia:   Her  Problem.. 

meet,  and  find  a  rival  for  me.     I  shall  be  in  the  city  by  No 
vember,  and  then  we  will  compare  notes  again." 
"  And  in  the  meanwhile  you  are  to  be  married." 
"  Rumor  has  said  the  same  thing  before,  but  you  see  that 
I  am  still  single." 

"  Oh,  Eleanor,  can  you  never  love  me  again  ?  " 
The   voice  was  full   of  tender,  imploring  passion.     How 
deeply  he  must  be  infatuated  with  this  beautiful  woman,  Lucia 
thought. 

"  Harold,  will  you  return  those  letters  ? ' 
"  Never !  never !  " 

"  Then  do  not  talk  to  me  of  love.  Go  your  way. " 
Eleanor  Sturtevant  must  have  moved  on,  for  the  next  sound 
was  indistinct,  and  finally  mingled  with  the  voice  of  the  stream. 
Lucia  rose  and  glanced  around.  Not  a  figure  was  to  be  seen 
in  those  shadowy  nooks,  not  a  step  or  a  rustle  heard.  Had 
she  been  dreaming ! 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  257 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

GIRT   BY    FIRE. 

A  QUICK,  keen  pang  of  anguish  tore  Lucia  Mackenzie's 
Jr\.  soul.  The  man  for  whom  she  would  have  chosen  a  des 
tiny  royal  in  its  truth,  love  and  honor,  thus  at  the  mercy  of  a 
heartless  coquette  !  But  why  had  Eleanor  Sturtevant  singled 
out  this  man  of  all  others  to  marry  ?  There  certainly  could  be 
no  lack  of  wealthy  and  handsome  suitors  at  her  feet. 

Now  that  she  remembered,  Paul  Rutherford  had  not  been 
at  all  enthusiastic  about  his  betrothed  or  his  anticipated  hap 
piness.  He  was  grave  and  quiet  by  nature,  but  she  had  seen 
his  eye  kindle  and  his  cheek  glow  with  a  touch  of  a  hidden 
fire.  Could  it  be  possible  that  this  miserable  fate  lay  before 
him? 

She  shuddered  with  painful  forebodings  and  began  to  re 
trace  her  steps.  Her  own  wretched  life  seemed  to  rise  up  as 
a  warning,  yet  what  could  she  do  except  look  on  and  see  him 
drift  down  with  the  current !  Even  if  the  secret  had  come  to 
her  honorably,  she  would  still  have  no  right  to  betray  it.  But 
could  he  not  be  saved  ? 

"Miss  Mackenzie,"  said  the  domestic,  as  she  came  slowly 
in  at  the  side  gate,  "  there's  a  gentleman  in  the  drawing-room 
wishes  to  see  you." 

"  Where  is  Mrs.  Preston  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  she  and  Miss  Edith  have  gone  for  a  drive." 

"  Do  you  know  who  it  is  ? — the  visitor,  I  mean,"  she  added 
absently. 


25! 


Lucia:  Her 


"  A  stranger,  I  think." 

Lucia  made  one  or  two  trifling  alterations  of  dress  and 
ran  down.  Some  person  on  business — though  what  could  a 
stranger  want  with  her  ? 

The  figure  wore  a  curiously  familiar  look.  The  face  was 
turned  from  her  until  she  had  half  crossed  the  room. 

She  uttered  a  low  cry  of  surprise  and  terror,  for  Vaughan 
Marchmont  stood  before  her. 

He  would  have  met  any  emergency  with  calmness,  but  he 
felt  that  he  was  master  of  this  situation.  Sweet  as  the  smile 
was,  there  gleamed  a  little  triumph  in  it  as  well. 

"  So  I  have  found  you  at  last,  my  lost,  my  still  dear  friend  !  " 

She  trembled  so  violently  that  she  fell,  rather  than  sat  in 
the  nearest  chair. 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  said,  imploringly,  "  but  I  could  not  wait 
when  once  assured  that  you  were  alive." 

"  Who  told  you  ? "  she  gasped ;  for  did  any  one  besides  Paul 
Rutherford  know  the  secret  ? 

"  There  was  a  body  found  and  brought  to  Dedham  ;  and 
though  others  were  deceived,  I  was  not.  From  that  hour  I 
have  not  believed  you  dead.  But  why  did  you  go  without  a 
word  ?  You  might  have  trusted  me  !  " 

A  desperate  courage  seemed  to  spring  up  within  her,  and 
she  turned  at  bay  like  some  \vild  thing  driven  to  the  last  ex 
tremity. 

"  And  knowing  that  I  wished  to  be  as  the  dead  to  every 
one,  this  step  on  your  part  is  hardly  kind,  Mr.  Marchmont." 

He  had  fancied  all  along  that  she  had  cared  for  him,  and 
that  only  her  position,  and  a  faint  sense  of  what  was  due  to  her 
husband,  kept  her  from  acknowledging  it.  Her  sudden  flight 
had  been  a  severe  blow  to  his  vanity,  yet  he  had  a  man's  love 
for  combating  obstacles.  But  as  she  stood  there  now,  lofty  in 
spite  of  her  terror,  and  with  a  higher  beauty  in  her  face  than 
that  which  had  first  attracted  him,  he  still  resolved  to  conquer. 
Now  she  was  in  his  power,  he  was  not  likely  to  forget  that. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  259 

"  I  could  not  stay  away."  His  tone  was  low  and  vehement. 
"  Ah,  you  can  never  know  how  I  have  longed  for  some  tidings 
— how  often  I  have  pictured  you  friendless,  suffering,  with  no 
kind  hand  or  heart  to  minister  to  your  needs.  Others,  whose 
right  it  was,  might  let  the  matter  go  by  in  silence,  but  I  could 
not.  A  faint,  uncertain  clue  has  guided  me  now  and  then,  and 
at  last  led  me  aright." 

"  Well  ? "  she  said,  glancing  at  him  inquiringly. 

She  understood  that  he  loved  her,  that  he  had  dared  to 
love  her  when  such  a  passion  confessed  would  have  been  shame 
and  dishonor  to  her.  In  those  old  days"  she  had  not  seen  clear 
ly,  or  rather  she  had  not  been  capable  of  making  subtle  dis 
tinctions.  She  would  have  deemed  it  an  insult  to  accuse  him 
of  unlawful  love,  when  he  had  placed  it  on  the  basis  of  friend 
ship. 

Marchmont  felt  that  he  would  gain  nothing  by  temporizing. 
If  he  chose  to  marry  her,  it  was  in  his  power,  so  far  as  he  was 
concerned.  He  was  not  quite  sure  that  he  did.  There  were 
women  in  the  world  who  would  bring  him  wealth  and  position, 
with  the  added  lustre  of  family,  and  it  might  not  be  wisdom  to 
throw  himself  away.  But  he  did  want  one  deep,  delicious 
draught  of  her  love. 

"  There  was  a  time  when  you  esteemed  me  a  friend.  Why 
did  you  not  trust  me  !  " 

"  I  told  you  that  I  wanted  to  be  dead  to  the  past.  I  de 
sired  to  begin  a  new  life." 

"  Have  you  found  it  better  than  the  old  one  ?  " 

"  More  satisfactory,  at  least,  until  now ; "  she  replied, 
pointedly. 

His  face  flushed,  and  he  bit  his  lips.  If  he  subdued  this 
woman  at  all,  he  must  begin  by  being  master.  And  then  he 
glanced  her  over.  The  slender  figure  with  that  peculiar  seduc 
tive  softness  indicative  of  tenderness  as  well  as  untold  depths 
of  passion,  the  shining  hair  rippling  in  its  sea  of  gold,  the  deep, 
lustrous  eyes  with  their  half-hidden  light  that  dazzled,  piqued 


2 GO  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

one's  curiosity  and  yet  seldom  satisfied.  She  seemed  like  a 
rare,  weird  psychological  study.  He  felt  that  her  soul  never 
had  been  roused  to  its  fullest  extent,  and  that  quick  as  she 
might  be  to  take  many  impressions,  the  one  that  swayed  her 
the  most  powerfully  would  be  of  slow  growth. 

He  compelled  her  eyes  to  meet  his  by  the  exercise  of  the 
subtle  power  he  knew  so  well  how  to  use. 

"  I  think  you  have  felt,  if  you  have  not  acknowledged  to 
yourself,  the  tie  existing  between  us,"  he  began,  in  his  slow, 
melodious  voice.  "  Heretofore  I  have  had  no  right  to  speak. 
I  had  to  look  on  your  daily  martyrdom  and  keep  silence,  no 
matter  how  keen  the  pang.  But  now  you  are  free,  and  I  dare 
to  say  '  I  love  you.' " 

"  You  have  yet  no  right ; "  and  the  indignant  blood  crim 
soned  her  cheek.  "  Warren  Thorndike  is  alive ;  and  by  the  law 
of  the  land,  I  am  still  his  wife." 

"  He  has  placed  an  insuperable  bar  between  you.  He  is 
married." 

She  started  back  in  astonishment,  yet  in  an  instant  she  took 
in  the  whole.  Rachel  was  his  wife,  of  course.  The  event  she 
had  wished  for  in  a  vague  way  had  come  to  pass,  and  she  felt 
frightened  at  the  result.  Did  it  leave  her  free  ?  Her  brain 
was  in  a  state  of  painful  confusion. 

"  There  is  the  greater  need  of  my  keeping  silence,"  she  an 
swered  slowly. 

He  noted  the  expression  of  terror  and  indecision  that  ho 
vered  about  her  eyes. 

"  You  are  dead  to  that  part  of  the  world,"  he  made  answer. 
"  And  it  appears  the  more  necessary  now  that  you  should  have 
a  tried  and  trusty  adviser.  Who  could  fill  this  place  so  well  as 
the  man  who  loves  you,  the  man  to  whom  you  could  be  every 
thing?" 

His  tone  was  tender  and  impassioned.  A  sad,  yet  fasci 
nating  light  quivered  about  his  eyes,  like  the  flame  of  a  hid 
den  fire. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  261 

How  should  she  tell  him  that  she  did  not  love  him,  that  no 
amount  of  patience  or  devotion  could  move  her,  that  she  had 
indeed  lost  faith  in  him  ?  She  felt  so  astray,  so  far  from  any 
trusty  beacon  light,  that  she  hardly  knew  which  way  to  go. 

"  You  cannot  have  forgotten  all  the  past,"  he  resumed. 
"  There  was  a  time  when  I  read  more  than  a  passing  interest 
in  your  soul.  Surely  that  long  interchange  of  taste  and  feeling, 
of  similar  pursuits,  refinements,  thoughts  and  moods  could  not 
fail  to  leave  some  impress.  Then  a  look  would  have  been 
wrong ;  now  my  soul  summons  yours  by  the  divine  right  of  love, 
of  a  sacred  possessorship  that  you  cannot  deny  !  " 

"You  judge  too  soon,  Mr.  Marchmont,"  she  said.  "In 
those  days  I  was  wild  and  weak.  I  had  no  friend  or  sister  to 
counsel  me.  From  the  simplest  of  lives  I  went  to  the  extreme 
of  fashionable  dissipation.  I  took  no  greater  license  than  wo 
men  in  my  station,  and  yet  I  understand  now  that  some  of 
those  steps  were  calculated  to  lead  one  astray.  Heaven  knows 
how  truly  and  earnestly  I  have  repented  of  them.  In  my  se 
clusion  I  have  tried  to  bring  myself  up  to  a  higher  standard. 
Poor  as  the  effort  may  have  been,  it  is  not  without  some  result. 
It  has  made  me  clearer  eyed." 

He  saw  that.  Her  soul  seemed  to  challenge  his  in  that 
brief  instant,  and  to  make  it  understand  that  she  stood  on  no 
uncertain  ground  ;  that  she  could  no  longer  be  led  by  a  be 
guiling  smile  or  a  few  impassioned  or  unmeaning  words. 

He  had  never  felt  the  guiding  or  repressing  power  of  a  will 
stronger  or  purer  than  his  own.  Hitherto  he  had  crushed 
where  he  could  not  conquer.  Selfishness  reigned  a  very  king 
within  him,  and  even  at  that  moment,  much  as  he  loved  Lucy 
Thorndike,  he  resolved  that  in  the  end  she  should  pay  to  the 
•  uttermost  for  thus  daring  to  oppose.  But  he  was  wary  enough 
to  glove  the  iron  hand  in  softest  velvet. 

"  And  you  misjudge  me,  I  think,"  in  that  soft,  injured  tone, 
so  potent  with  women.  "  The  merest  legal  figment  holds  you, 
which  any  court  could  dissolve  in  a  few  hours.  Then  you  are 


262  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

quite  free  to  become  the  loved  and  honored  wife  of  any  man.  I 
ask  you  to  be  mine.  I  will  take  these  steps  for  you  in  the 
most  quiet  manner." 

"  Mr.  Marchmont — "  and  she  raised  her  hand  entreatingly. 

"  Hear  me  through,"  he  interrupted  with  dignity.  "  I  have 
studied  you  when  you  were  least  suspicious.  I  know  the 
depths  and  richness  of  your  nature,  its  marvellous  capacity  for 
bliss,  its  truth,  tenderness,  and  also  its  needs.  I  would  take 
you  far  away  from  aught  that  could  recall  the  past,  to  some  of 
those  bright,  bewildering  lands  at  whose  very  description  I 
have  seen  your  eye  kindle  and  your  cheek  glow.  You  should 
have  beauty  on  every  hand,  until  your  very  soul  was  steeped 
in  it  and  every  fine  pulse  of  your  nature  beat  responsive.  I 
would  shield  you  from  care,  from  sorrow  or  trouble,  until  all  of 
your  bitter  past  should  be  blotted  out,  and  not  one  remem 
brance  left  to  mar  the  harmony  of  our  perfect  bliss.  I  should 
prize  your  love  above  all  treasures,  and  cherish  it  night  and  day. 
Lucy,  you  cannot  refuse.  Think  of  this  life  of  hiding  and  ex 
ile,  where  you  are  never  safe,  of  the  toil,  the  loneliness,  and  the 
bleak,  barren  future  !  " 

He  would  have  taken  her  in  his  arms,  but  she  saw  the  mo 
tion  and  drew  back. 

There  had  been  times  when  such  tender,  impassioned  tones 
might  have  won  her,  had  she  stood  as  nearly  free  as  she  did 
now.  But  his  words  touched  no  deep  chord  in  her  soul. 

"  Mr.  Marchmont,"  she  said  slowly,  and  with  a  peculiar 
force  upon  every  word,  "  one  thing  you  have  not  taken  into  ac 
count — I  do  not  love  you  !  " 

The  force  and  daring  of  her  nature  spoke  there.  Her 
deep  eyes  burned  with  a  steady  light. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  There  is  no  past  love  with  which  to 
compare  it ! " 

His  tone  was  confident,  and  a  peculiar  smile  played  about 
his  lips. 

A  sudden  subtle  flushing,  a  tremor  in  every  limb,  a  far  il- 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  263 

lamination  of  the  deep  eyes,  but  with  all  these  outward  signs 
a  pang  like  death  at  her  heart. 

"  You  are  right.  I  can  test  it  by  nothing  in  the  past.  It 
is  a  simple,  present  feeling  of  my  own — I  do  not  desire  to  be 
your  wife." 

"  Why  ? "  with  incredulous  amazement. 

He  had  overlooked  the  previous  agitation,  but  nothing  was 
to  escape  his  eyes  now. 

"  Because  as  I  said — I  do  not  love  you  !  " 

"  But  you  will,"  with  the  assured  triumph  of  certain  victory. 
"  Give  me  time  and  opportunity.  It  is  for  your  happiness  I 
plead,  as  well  as  my  own." 

He  had  taken  a  firm  resolve  within  himself.  If  he  found 
her  love  a  more  satisfying  treasure  than  the  draughts  he  had 
hitherto  quaffed,  he  would  rest  content  in  its  tenderness  ;  but 
if  not,  and  freedom  were  quite  impossible,  there  would  be  ways 
to  alleviate  the  sameness.  He  was  not  a  generous  man  in  any 
respect,  and  was  quite  capable,  if  .she  disappointed  him,  of  con 
signing  her  to  oblivion  with  hardly  a  pitying  pang  of  remorse. 

"No,"  she  returned  steadily.  "If  you  are  a  true  friend 
you  will  take  my  final  answer  and  leave  me  to  the  solitude  that 
I  have  chosen." 

Her  face  began  to  betray  a  peculiar  weariness.  There  was 
a  sinking  in  the  lines  about  the  mouth,  and  a  curious  flicker 
ing  light  coming  and  going  in  the  deep  eyes. 

"  I  cannot.     I  am  lover  as  well  as  friend." 

Then  came  her  fatal  temporizing.  She  had  put  off  so  many 
evil  days  in  her  short  life. 

"  At  least,'"'  she  said  imploringly,  "  you  will  leave  me  now. 
I  am  worn  and  distracted  with  the  sudden  surprise,  and  all 
this  conversation.  I  know  not  which  way  to  turn." 

He  could  be  gentle  enough  when  it  suited  his  purpose. 

"  As  you  will,"  he  replied  sadly.  "  Remember  that  I  love 
you,  and  be  merciful." 

He  took  her  hand,  though  she  would  fain  have  withdrawn 


264  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

it.  Seeing  the  pain  and  suffering  so  plainly  impressed  upon 
her  face,  and  quite  mistaking  its  cause,  a  glow  of  pity  and  love 
suffused  his  brow  and  touched  her  deeper  than  she  would  have 
cared  to  own. 

"  To-morrow,"  he  said,  and  she  did  not  dissent. 

Then  she  flew  to  her  room.  A  wild  terror  throbbed  along 
every  pulse.  What  should  she  do  ? — what  could  she  do  ?  she 
moaned,  fly  again  ? 

Alas  !  there  was  no  safety  in  flight.  The  quiet  security  of 
these  years  and  careful  isolation  had  been  disturbed,  and  what 
could  any  other  place  promise  !  Might  not  Marchmont  track 
her  wheresoever  she  went  ? 

A  shuddering  seized  her  whole  frame,  as  if  it  were  in  a 
deathly  ague,  and  her  throat  became  painfully  constricted.  In 
this  spasm  of  despair  the  grave  looked  peaceful  and  inviting. 
Why  had  she  not  died  ?  And  for  an  instant  one  of  those  terri 
ble  temptations  came  over  her.  What  was  her  life  worth? 
Homeless,  friendless,  an  exile  from  all  that  women  hold  sacred, 
hunted  to  the  last  extremity,  what  did  it  matter  ?  Would  not 
God  look  pityingly  on  the  step  when  He  knew  all  the  terrible 
causes  that  led  to  it  ?  Would  it  not  be  better  for  Rachel  and 
Mr.  Thorndike? 

Reason  asserted  her  sway.  No,  it  was  not  possible. 
Since  God  had  not  seen  fit  to  end  the  miserable  life,  she  must 
bide  His  time.  And  if  He  laid  some  still  heavier  burden  upon 
her  she  must  bear  it,  calling  upon  him  for  strength  and  grace. 

She  forced  herself  to  go  down  to  the  drawing-room  on  Mrs. 
Preston's  return.  Edith  had  some  girlish  gossip  to  relate,  and 
her  silence  passed  unremarked. 

But  all  through  the  long  and  dreary  night  she  tossed  rest 
lessly  upon  her  bed  and  asked  herself  what  she  should  do. 
It  seemed  indeed  the  great  crisis  of  her  life.  Vaughan  March 
mont  held  her  secret,  and  she  had  more  to  fear  from  him  than 
from  Paul  Rutherford.  Did  he  really  love  her?  When  she 
believed  this  and  recalled  his  persuasive  words,  his  looks  of 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  265 

ardent  tenderness,  a  profound  pity  filled  her  heart.  Remem 
ber  that  she  could  not  fathom  the  depths  of  his  soul  with  her 
unpractised  eyes. 

In  her  extremity  she  came  to  one  resolve.  She  would  write 
to  Paul  Rutherford.  Counsel  and  advice  she  must  have. 
There  was  no  one  here  to  whom  she  could  apply.  Kind  and 
generous  as  Mr.  Wilmer  had  proved,  he  would  be  shocked  at 
her  story.  He  had  an  old-fashioned  respect  for  the  marriage 
bond,  and  would  be  inclined  to  judge  rather  severely  the  wife 
who  had  thus  set  at  naught  her  husband's  authority.  Mrs. 
Catherwood  would  condemn  unhesitatingly.  Merecombe  would 
be  no  home  for  her  when  the  story  was  once  bruited  abroad. 

But  Rutherford,  knowing  all  her  past,  would  judge  with 
his  clear  eyes  and  merciful  soul.  She  had  this  much  confidence 
in  him,  that  whatever  step  he  decided  upon  as  right,  she  meant 
to  follow  implicitly. 

Her  first  task  the  next  morning  was  to  write  her  note.  By 
one  of  those  strange  incidents  that  afterward  seem  like  links 
in  a  chain,  she  remembered  seeing  his  address  on  a  letter 
ready  for  the  mail,  lying  on  the  library  table  at  Mrs.  Gather- 
wood's.  She  was  in  no  state  to  study  elegance  and  propriety. 

"  You  proved  yourself  once  my  friend,  and  saved  me,"  she 
wrote ;  "  and  now  that  I  am  in  still  sorer  need,  will  you  come 
to  my  assistance  ?  LUCIA  MACKENZIE." 

She  forced  herself  to  eat  a  few  mouthfuls  of  breakfast,  and 
then  set  out  on  her  errand,  for  she  could  trust  it  to  no  other 
hands.  It  seemed  as  if  some  one  was  dogging  every  step,  and 
she  shivered  at  the  slightest  rustle.  She  wanted  more  com 
posure  before  she  could  again  venture  to  face  Mr.  Marchmont. 

It  was  her  afternoon  for  the  Catherwoods.  Like  one  in  the 
grasp  of  a  terrible  dream  she  went  about  her  duty,  fearing  some 
rude  awakening  every  instant.  How  more  than  comfortable 
this  grand  old  mansion  looked,  with  its  serene  mistress  and 
group  of  happy  girls.  Miss  Sturtevant  was  among  them — 


266  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

regally  beautiful  and  imperious.  If  there  was  any  sin  on  her 
conscience,  she  did  not  betray  it.  Lucia  envied  her  the  grace 
and  indifference. 

What  charm  had  she  ever  had  for  a  man  like  Paul  Ruther 
ford  ?  Lucia  seemed  so  at  loss  to  account  for  this  strange  tie. 
And  why  should  she  wish  to  marry  a  man  whom  she  did  not 
really  love?  Had  she  not  the  whole  world  from  which  to 
choose  ? 

The  day  wore  wearily  to  an  end.  On  every  step  of  her 
homeward  way  she  expected  to  meet  Mr.  Marchmont — for  in 
her  highly-wrought  nervous  state  she  gifted  him  with  presci 
ence.  At  last  she  drew  a  relieved  breath. 

"  How  tired  you  look,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Preston.  "  And 
Mr.  Wilmer  has  sent  for  us  to  come  over.  There  are  to  be 
some  young  people  at  the  Rectory  this  evening." 

There  was  an  expression  of  solicitude  upon  Mrs.  Preston's 
face. 

"Oh,  Miss  Mackenzie  must  go,  mamma,"  said  Edith. 
"  Uncle  Wilmer  sent  especially  for  her.  It  is  always  so  much 
pleasanter  with  you;"  and  the  young  girl  gave  her  a  winsome 
smile. 

"I  think  I  will,  if  you  can  all  excuse  a  little  dullness,"  she 
answered.  "  In  the  mean  while,  I  can  take  a  few  moment's 
rest." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  be  ill,  surely  !  And  yet  your  voice 
has  an  unusual  sound." 

"  Oh,  no.  I  did  not  sleep  well  last  night,  and  the  day  has 
been  warm.  I  shall  soon  be  refreshed." 

Lucia  closed  her  eyes  on  the  phantom  before  them.  Any 
thing  was  better  than  receiving  Mr..  Marchmont  alone  there  in 
the  evening.  And  perhaps  she  would  feel  no  worse  for  the 
effort. 

They  went  early.  For  that  day  she  was  safe.  Perhaps 
she  had  misjudged  Mr.  Marchmont.  It  was  her  fault  that  he 
had  dared  to  love  her ;  and  in  reviewing  the  conversation  of 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  2G7 

yesterday  in  a  calmer  mood,  he  might  see  how  little  hope  there 
was  for  him,  and  accept  her  decision  as  final. 

"  A  gentleman  called  soon  after  you  had  gone,"  said  the 
servant,  on  their  return.  "  He  left  this  note." 

Lucia  took  it,  thankful  that  she  had  escaped  the  meeting. 
She  did  not  open  it  until  in  her  own.  room. 

He  had  pencilled  a  few  lines  on  a  card  and  slipped  it  into 
an  envelope. 

"  My  darling  " — it  ran — "  why  do  you  shun  me  ?  My  whole 
life  lies  in  your  hands,  for  happiness  or  despair.  I  am  deeply 
disappointed  at  thus  missing  you;  and  beg  an  interview  for  to 
morrow  morning." 

She  could  not  escape  the  cruel  fate  then  !  Oh,  if  Mr. 
Rutherford  were  but  here.  She  placed  her  whole  faith  in 
him  with  feverish  anxiety.  But  how  could  she  wait  ?  Again 
flight  appeared  the  only  door  open  to  her. 

Every  step  of  this  miserable  way  seemed  linked  with  pain 
and  shame.  The  old  cry  rose  to  her  lips — why  had  she  ever 
been  born  ? 


2G8  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

AGAINST    THE    TIDE. 

VAUGHAN  MARCHMONT  sat  in  Mrs.  Preston's  cosy 
drawing-room  awaiting  the  coming  of  Miss  Mackenzie. 
She  was  grave  and  cold,  paler  than  usual,  but  her  voice  had  a 
peculiar  steadiness  in  it  that  was  unpromising.  It  would  re 
quire  nice  playing  to  win. 

One  of  those  subtle  laws  of  fascination  was  here  exempli 
fied.  The  more  she  seemed  to  shun  him  the  more  determined 
he  was  upon  conquest.  If  he  had  never  seen  her  warm,  impul 
sive,  and  glowing  with  latent  mesmeric  fire,  he  would  hardly 
have  considered  the  prize  worth  the  pains.  But  she  should 
yield  to  his  influence  once  more,  that  he  was  steadfastly  re 
solved  upon. 

"  My  dear  friend,"  he  said  in  his  low  winning  tone,  "  have 
you  been  ill  ?  Why  will  you  not  let  me  advise  and  com 
fort?" 

"You  can  give  me  no  comfort.  I  hoped,  Mr.  Marchmont, 
that  you  would  see  this  matter  in  the  light  that  I  desired,  and 
leave  me  to  myself." 

"Thus  solitary  and  struggling,  knowing  that  I  could  make 
life  bright  for  you,  and  yet  standing  coldly  aloof.  Ah,  you 
wrong  me,  if  you  thought  that  !  " 

"  It  is  best  and  kindest.  If  you  have  my  welfare  truly  at 
heart  you  must  see  this." 

"  But  I  do  not,  cannot  see  it.  I  love  you,  and  I  am  a  man 
of  much  patience  where  my  feelings  are  really  enlisted.  Try 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  209 

me  by  any  test  that  you  will.  I  have  told  you  that  my  inten 
tions  were  most  honorable." 

For  all  that  the  handsome  face  and  strange  eyes  with  an 
almost  evil  significance  made  her  shudder. 

"  Mr.  Marchmont,"  she  said,  ".all  this  talking  is  useless  and 
painful  to  me  as  well.  I  can  never,  never  be  any  thing  to  you. 
I  would  sooner  return  to  Dedham  and  confess  my  identity." 

"  That  is  quite  impossible,"  with  a  peculiar  smile. 

"Why?" 

She  said  this  with  some  of  the  olden  spirit  that  had  made 
Lucy  Thorndike  piquant.  There  was  a  dangerous,  half-smoth 
ered  fire  in  the  dark  eyes. 

"  Because  your  sister  is  Warren  Thorndike's  wife,  and  the 
mother  of  his  child.  Will  you  disgrace  them  both  by  a  fruit 
less  appeal  ?  " 

"  His  child  !     Their  child  !  " 

She  sank  back  in  her  chair  and  covered  her  face  with  her 
hands.  Not  that  she  had  ever  thought  of  asking  mercy  from 
Warren  Thorndike,  but  this  would  take  all  power  quite  out  of 
her  hands. 

"  Yes,"  he  went  on  in  his  cool  tone  that  seemed  to  stab 
her  to  the  very  core  of  her  heart — "  you  know  what  that  would 
be.  He  would  legally  repudiate  you  and  re-marry  her,  but 
the  child  would  be  proved  illegitimate.  And  you  would  be 
still  adrift  with  the  reputation  of  a  discarded  wife." 

She  turned  upon  him  with  fiery  eyes  and  burning,  scarlet 
cheeks,  every  pulse  throbbing  with  indignation. 

"  Why  should  you  be  so  anxious  to  link  your  fate  with  a 
woman  whom  the  world,  never  very  generous,  might  con 
demn?" 

"  Because  I  love  you.  Because  I  would  fain  shield  you 
from  sorrow  and  trouble." 

How  many  women  have  been  won  by  just  such  persistence. 
She  wondered  if  it  were  really  true.  If  she,  a  stray  and  exile, 
might  be  housed  in  a  warm  and  tender  heart.  A  moment  be- 


270  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

fore  she  had  been  angry,  now  gratitude  softened  every  feel 
ing. 

"  No,"  she  returned  suddenly,  afraid  of  yielding  to  the 
spell — "  this  can  never  be.  If  you  think  me  distrustful  and 
wary,  I  have  learned  it  in  a  hard  school.  I  was  grateful  to 
Warren  Thorndike  for  his  kindnes's  in  trying  to  make  my  lot 
happier,  but  after  I  became  his  wife  I  found  that  love  only  could 
make  the  duties  of  such  a  station  endurable.  I  will  not  sell 
my  soul  again  for  a  mess  of  pottage." 

"  You  compare  us  !  You  place  my  love  on  a  level  with  his 
grovelling  fancy  or  passion." 

There  was  a  fine  and  lofty  scorn  in  this,  and  his  brow  was 
stained  with  a  delicate  flush.  To  compare  this  gentleman 
with  that  boor  were  indeed  a  disgrace.  And  yet  she  knew  that 
men  as  refined  and  high-bred  as  this  one  had  crushed  the  joy 
out  of  some  women's  lives  none  the  less  surely. 

"  Pardon  me,"  she  returned  with  unconscious  softness. 
"  But  the  fact  still  remains — I  cannot  give  you  gratitude  for 
love." 

"  I  told  you  that  I  would  wait  Give  me  some  opportuni 
ty  for  proving  my  regard." 

"  I  cannot,"  with  a  shiver  of  misgiving.  "  Your  continued 
visits  to  me  would  attract  attention,  and  bring  me  into  a  sphere 
that  I  have  hitherto  shunned.  Again  I  beg  of  you  to  let  me 
go  my  way  alone." 

Her  voice  sank  to  an  imploring  pathos.  It  would  be  en 
tertaining  to  have  her  plead  in  that  fashion  for  other  favors. 
He  had  a  great  love  for  authority  and  power. 

"  Do  not  ask  such  an  impossibility." 

"  Mr.  Marchmont,  what  do  you  propose  ?  " 

He  saw  that  a  change  had  come  over  her,  but  he  treated 
it  as  only  a  passing  mood. 

"To  wait." 

She  was  girt  in  as  by  fire.  At  every  avenue  of  escape  those 
steady  eyes  confronted  her,  until  she  began  to  experience  a 
vajjue  alarm. 


Lucia  :   Her  Problem.  271 

"  Your  waiting  will  be  useless." 

Then  she  drew  herself  up  haughtily  and  glanced  from  the 
window  to  the  lawn,  never  swerving  nor  allowing  herself  to  be 
provoked  into  a  reply  or  touched  by  his  pleading. 

He  rose  at  length  and  came  nearer. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone,  "  that  it  is  bet 
ter  to  have  my  love  than  my  hate,  to  keep  me  for  a  friend,  in 
stead  of  converting  me  into  an  enemy. 

Still  the  same  disdainful  smile. 

Would  she  dare  him  to  do  his  worst?  He  had  seen 
women  brave  for  a  brief  while  before,  but  they  were  generally 
conquered  by  a  strong  fate.  Perhaps  it  would  be  as  well  to 
leave  her  to  her  own  reflections. 

"  Adieu,"  he  said  loftily.  "  Think  of  this  and  make  your 
choice." 

He  went  slowly  out  of  the  room.  Lucia  Mackenzie  sat 
like  one  in  a  spell,  her  eyes  curiously  indrawn,  her  lips  firmly 
set,  and  the  lines  about  the  mouth  growing  hard.  She  had 
dared  this  man.  Farewell  to  peace,  to  seclusion,  to  the  drop 
of  prosperity  that  had  fallen  into  her  cup.  It  was  hardly  worth 
while  to  wait  for  Mr.  Rutherford  now  ;  yet,  since  she  had  writ 
ten,  courtesy  demanded  that  much. 

Vau'ghan  Marchmont  fancied  that  she  would  essay  flight. 
He  managed  that  both  stations  should  be  watched,  but  Lucia 
went  steadily  about  her  duties.  An  awful  calmness  seemed  to 
have  fallen  upon  her,  presaging  a  dangerous  storm. 

While  he  was  waiting  and  bethinking  himself  wearily  of  his 
next  move,  he  learned  that  Paul  Rutherford  had  arrived  at 
Merecombe  and  gone  directly  to  Mrs.  Preston's.  Here  then 
was  the  secret  of  Lucia's  resistance  ! 

Remember  that  he  had  once  felt  certain  of  Lucia's  love. 
Misled  by  his  own  vanity  and  her  ignorance,  her  lack  of  un 
derstanding  precisely  what  his  attentions  meant,  he  still  as 
sured  himself  of  a  certain  regard.  His  dull  dislike  of  Ruther 
ford  now  blazed  into  open,  ungovernable  hate.  He  bit  his 


272  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

lip  over  a  fearful  threat.  If  he  could  not  rule  he  would 
ruin.  This  little  world  of  Merecombe  should  ring  with  the 
story  of  Lucia's  past,  and  herself  be  held  up  to  execration  fa 
thus  accepting  another  man's  love.  He  would  see  her  once 
more  and  give  her  a  choice.  Ah,  he  knew  how  she  would 
shrink  from  shame  and  disgrace.  At  last  he  held  the  winning 
card. 

Lucia's  first  anxiety  had  died  away.  It  was  too  late  for 
any  assistance.  The  swift  current  must  bear  her  on  to  the 
final  wreck,  for  neither  prayer  nor  hope  would  avail. 

Mr.  Rutherford  glanced  at  her  in  amaze  as  she  entered  the 
room.  Some  inexplicable  change  had  befallen  her,  for  she  ap 
peared  to  be  turning  into  stone.  Even  the  drooping  eyelids 
were  fixed,  and  the  eyes  set  hard. 

"  What  can  have  occurred  ? "  he  asked  anxiously.  "  I 
came  as  sooij  as  was  possible  after  receiving  your  note.  Some 
danger  menaces  you." 

"  Vaughan  Marchmont  is  here,"  she  said  under  her  breath. 

He  turned  pale,  and  his  fingers  seemed  to  make  an  invol 
untary  movement. 

"  He  has  recognized  you,  then  !  Your  secret  is  in  his 
hands  as  well." 

"  Yes." 

They  gave  each  other  a  long,  questioning  glance.  She  felt 
so  helpless,  so  far  at  sea  that  it  seemed  as  if  even  his  strong 
arm  could  not  save  her.  If  she  could  only  cling  to  him  as  one 
might  to  a  brother. 

"  Well !  "  he  said.  It  appeared  as  if  there  must  be  some 
thing  back  of  all  this. 

"  He  loves  me  !  You  were  right  there  when  you  spoke  be 
fore." 

Her  voice  was  hoarse  and  her  cheek  stained  with  crimson. 

"  Has  he  dared—" 

"  No,  let  me  give  him  credit  for  honor^  at  least,"  she  said 
•with  some  bitterness.  "  He  has  proposed  marriage — he  is 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  273 

willing  to  take  me  with  all  my  legal  disabilities,  or  assist  me  to 
liberty." 

"  You  know  he  could  not.  You  are  still  Warren  Thorn- 
dike's  wife." 

"  And  he  has  another  wife — my  sister,  and  a  child  !  " 

"  Yes.  He  told  you  this  ?  I  would  have  saved  you,"  with 
the  tenderest  pity  in  his  eyes. 

"  He  told  me.  It  was  my  mad,  miserable  folly,  that  has 
brought  about  this  complication." 

"  He  loves  you  ?  He  wishes  to  marry  you  ?  Liberty  is 
possible,  you  know.  I  think  Mr.  Thorndike  will  not  care  to 
make  a  change." 

He  said  this  softly,  as  if  afraid  of  paining  her. 

She  came  a  little  closer  to  him,  and  looked  curiously  into 
his  eyes. 

"  You  probably  understand  what  manner  of  man  Mr.  March- 
mont  is.  You  have  seen  him  in  the  world,  in  business  matters. 
He  holds  something  of  my  destiny  in  his  hands,  at  least  he 
can  make  all  our  lives  darker.  I  would  fain  befriend  Rachel 
and  her  child.  If  I  can  do  this  by  any  sacrifice  on  my  part, 
God  knows  it  will  be  a  cheerful  gift." 

Paul  Rutherford  pressed  his  hand  to  his  forehead.  Had 
her  early  regard  deepened  into  any  stronger  feeling  ? 

"  Do  you  love  him  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Love  him  !  "  she  answered  scornfully. 

"  Thank  God  !  " 

"  Do  not  remember  that  old  time  against  me,"  she  plead 
ed.  "  I  was  young,  thoughtless,  and  sometimes  felt  that  life 
was  hard  to  bear.  I  hated  its  coarseness,  its  vapid  gossips, 
its  trivial  employments.  And  then  he  came,  a  refined  and 
polished  gentleman,  fresh  in  all  the  elegancies  of  the  world 
and  society,  well  read,  entertaining — and  such  a  man  was  a 
new  study  to  me.  I  was  left  much  alone,  you  know ;  nay, 
more,  I  was  thrown  upon  the  mercies  of  others.  I  was  fasci 
nated  perhaps,  but  the  charm  was  a  passing  one.  You  spoke, 
12*  • 


274  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

and  the  vision  cleared.  I  saw  the  perils  in  my  path.  In  the 
after  dreariness  they  beset  me  again,  under  the  guise  of  friend 
ship — and  then  I  fled  from  them  both,  the  cold,  cruel  bond 
that  was  goading  me  to  madness,  and  the  other  that  had  ceased 
to  be  dangerous." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  this,"  he  replied,  in  an  earnest  tone, 
"  for  your  sake." 

"  Yet  my  going  away  was  a  false  step. 

"  Yes.  God  means  us  to  endure  the  trials  He  sends,  and 
not  turn  away  in  weak  cowardice.  You  will  not  marry  Vaughan 
Marchmont  then  ? " 

"  No.  Yet,  in  refusing  him  I  must  prepare  for  my  worst 
enemy." 

"  A  selfish,  unscrupulous  man — one  to  be  dreaded,  at 
least." 

"  Counsel  me,  advise  me  ;"  she  pleaded,  clasping  her  hands, 
and  raising  her  eyes  imploringly. 

"  My  poor  child,  it  is  hard  retracing  wrong  steps.  Every 
mistake  carries  with  it  some  downfall  of  what  might  have  been 
hope,  and  brings  a  sorrowful  entail  of  suffering.  I  can  under 
stand  what  the  temptations  were.  When  I  first  saw  you  I  felt 
that  your  way  was  set  in  dangerous  places.  If  I  had  spoken 
then ! " 

It  seemed  to  her  if  she  had  only  been  set  right  in  those 
days  of  inexperience,  much  of  her  misery  might  have  been 
saved.  And  yet  she  could  not  blame  him.  What  claim  had 
she  upon  any  stranger  ? 

"  It  will  be  best  to  go  back  to  Dedham,"  he  said,  slowly. 
"They  will  be  warned,  at  least." 

"  Not  that !  not  that ! "  she  exclaimed  in  anguish. 

"  Will  the  tidings  come  more  gently  from  him  ? " 

"  But  would  he  dare—  ? " 

"  He  will  dare  any  thing.  I  believe  to-day  that  Warren 
Thorndike  would  have  been  a  more  generous  husband  but 
for  him.  I  hold  him  responsible  for  much  that  occurred  at 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  275 

Dedham.  When  I  reached  the  town  he  had  left  it  with  a  for 
tune.  Thorndike  had  been  a  tool  in  his  more  astute  hands. 
Thank  God  that  he  never  really  found  his  way  to  your  heart ! 
And  yet  I  hardly  understand  how  you  escaped  !  " 

Had  there  been  some  guiding  power  stronger  than  ei 
ther  of  them  knew  ?  Was  it  one  hand  only  that  could  touch 
the  key  note  of  her  being  ?  and  that  one  forbidden  by  honor, 
manliness  and  integrity  to  sway  even  the  faintest  chord,  she 
must  needs  remain  forever  silent  and  dumb. 

He  did  not  dare  to  raise  his  eyes  at  the  moment.  If  he 
had  kept  his  own  life  free  from  tangles — but  no,  she  was  still 
the  wife  of  another,  as  sacred  to  him  as  she  had  always  been, 
always  would  be. 

"  Will  you  allow  him  to  hold  this  secret  in  terror  over  you 
— or  take  off  its  keenest  edge  by  confessing  it  yourself? " 

She  shrank  from  the  ordeal.  It  would  be  bitterer  than 
death  to  face  them  all  again.  Why  could  she  not  fly  ?  Ah, 
was  there  any  safety  in  that  ? 

Mr.  Wilmer's  text  flashed  across  her  mind  to  strengthen 
her.  "  He  shall  drink  of  the  brook  in  the  way,  therefore 
shall  he  lift  up  his  head."  She  understood  the  sermon  by  a 
swift  and  subtle  intuition.  Here  were  the  treacherous  rocks 
on  which  she  had  first  been  wrecked.  Ah,  how  weak  and 
blind  !  Did  God  mean  that  some  human  souls  should  come 
to  the  new  birth  through  flood  and  fire  ?  If  so,  hers  was  sure 
ly  one. 

Rutherford  watched  the  struggle.  He  saw  the  faint  red 
lines  of  anguish  thread  their  way  up  her  temples,  and  the  pallid 
lips  quivered  with  pain. 

"  You  will  go  ?  "  he  said,  in  a  slow,  decisive  way.  "  What 
ever  I  can  do  for  you  shall  be  done.  You  need  a  true  and 
clear-eyed  friend — such  as  only  a  brave  and  tender  woman 
could  prove.  I  believe  Mrs.  Catherwood  such  a  one.  If  you 
will  allow  me  to  repeat  the  story  to  her  !  " 

"  Not  now ; "  she  entreated. 


276  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  I  was  at  Dedham  three  months  ago.  Your  father  has 
broken  much.  Warren  Thorndike  has  aged,  and  yet  the  home 
seems  the  same  except  the  presence  of  the  child,  a  little  girl. 
They  have  called  her  Lucy." 

That  touched  her  keenly.  They  did  not  hate  her  utterly, 
then ! 

"  I  will  go  ; "  she  said,  after  a  pause. 

"  When  can  you  be  ready  ?  " 

"  Must  it  be  so  soon  ? "  A  wild  terror  seemed  to  creep 
over  her. 

"  The  earlier  the  better,  I  think.  Mr.  Thorndike  can  take 
the  necessary  steps  to  legalize  his  marriage — and  you  will  no 
longer  need  to  hide  in  secret.  It  will  be  a  painful  task,  yet — 
courage !  " 

Something  in  the  tone  roused  and  inspirited.  Far  apart  as 
they  must  always  stand,  she  could  still  pay  him  the  meed  of 
gratitude  and  respect. 

"  I  must  return  to-morrow,"  he  began.  "  The  elder  Mrs. 
Catherwood  goes  to  the  city  with  me.  If  you  would  accom 
pany  us — ? " 

He  was  right  in  one  thing — nothing  could  be  gained  by 
delay  except  additional  suffering. 

"  Yes ; "  she  assented,  faintly. 

"  Let  me  win  a  friend  for  you  in  Mrs.  Catherwood." 

"  If  you  can  ; "  she  answered  with  some  bitterness.  "  It 
seems  as  if  the  hand  of  ever}'  woman  would  be  forever  against 
me ;  because  my  burden  was  heavier  than  I  could  bear." 

"  To-morrow,  then.  Your  after  life  must  in  some  degree 
be  shaped  by  the  result  of  the  coming  interview.  You  can 
make  no  plans  until  that  is  over." 

He  had  a  strange  hope  for  her  that  he  dared  not  put  in 
words.  Could  Mr.  Garth's  heart  be  implacable  to  the  last  ? 

"  We  shall  start  early.  The  carriage  had  better  come 
for  you." 

Lucia  acquiesced.     She  made  no  effort  to  detain  him  after 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  277 

that — and  Iherr  farewell  words  were  simply  said.     This  part 
of  the  way  lay  straight  before  her. 

She  made  a  few  explanations  to  Mrs.  Preston,  and  then 
began  her  preparations.  In  the  midst  of  these,  she  was  inter 
rupted  by  a  call  from  Mr.  Marchmont. 

Lucia  Mackenzie  entered  the  room  quite  prepared  for  the 
contest.  He  read  this  in  her  proud,  steady  face,  and  bit  his 
lips  hard  under  cover  of  his  mustache. 

"  Your  secret  it  seems  is  a  secret  no  longer ; "  he  said,  with 
a  touch  of  scorn.  "  Have  you  taken  Mr.  Rutherford  into  coun 
sel  ? " 

"  I  believe  I  am  not  accountable  to  you  for  my  acts  ; "  she 
returned  with  quiet  dignity. 

"The  truth  is  no  mystery  I  suppose.  Paul  Rutherford 
has  become  my  rival.  Shall  I  congratulate  you  ?  " 

A  sardonic  smile  crossed  his  countenance. 

"  Mr.  Marchmont,"  she  said,  "  let  us  come  to  a  final  under 
standing.  That  Mr.  Rutherford  has  befriended  me,  I  will  not 
deny ;  but  you  may  spare  your  sneers.  In  a  few  months  he  is 
to  marry  Mrs.  Catherwood's  granddaughter,  to  whom  he  has 
been  engaged  for  some  time.  Probably  he  will  never  cross 
my  orbit  again,  for  I  shall  leave  Merecombe.  To-morrow  I 
am  going  back  to  Dedham." 

"  No,  you  cannot,"  he  began  eagerly.  "  Take  that  step  at 
your  peril ! " 

"  You  dare  to  threaten  me? " 

"  I  will  tell  you  a  secret  that  you  have  forced  from  my 
lips.  I  was  absent  when  you  left  Dedham  ;  and  on  my  return, 
Warren  Thorndike  accused  me  of  spiriting  away  his  wife,  con 
fessing  that  he  knew  she  cared  for  me  !  " 

If  he  expected  this  to  cower  her,  he  was  mistaken.  She 
saw  plainly  now  that  he  would  scruple  at  nothing  to  attain  his 
end,  and  she  began  to  hate,  more  than  she  feared. 

"  I  can  disprove  all  this ; "  she  answered,  undaunted. 
"  Every  week  of  my  life,  since  the  day  of  my  departure  from 


278  Lucia:   Her  Problem, 

Dedham,  can  be  accounted  for.     I  have  been  in  the  hands 
of  friends,  who  will  stand  by  me  to  the  last." 

His  final  card,  then,  had  proved  a  failure.  He  understood 
now  that  she  was  finally  lost  to  him  ;  and  as  she  stood  there 
in  her  pride  and  courageous  loveliness,  he  longed  to  crush,  to 
destroy. 

"  You  love  this  Paul  Rutherford  ;"  he  declared  madly. 

"  Do  I  ?  " 

She  turned  her  face  full  upon  him.  Calm  amid  all  the 
stress  of  trouble,  the  currents  of  fiery  blood  held  in  check  by 
the  high  soul  that  at  this  crisis  saved  itself,  and  the  man  whose 
fair  name  was  as  dear  to  her.  No  torture  could  have  wrested 
that  from  her. 

He  could  not  stab  her  there.  He  was  powerless,  worsted 
— where  a  week  ago  he  had  felt  master  of  the  situation.  But 
if  she  was  beyond  his  reach,  Rutherford  might  not  be. 

"  It  is  my  desire  that  this  shall  prove  our  last  interview," 
she  said.  "  Henceforward  we  are  strangers." 

With'  that  she  swept  regally  out  of  the  room,  leaving  him 
amazed  and  angry,  but  his  moods  were  no  longer  a  matter  of 
consideration  for  her.  She  looked  steadily  forward  to  the  new 
path,  resolved  not  to  swerve,  though  every  nerve  shrank  from 
the  coming  trial. 

She  did  not  take  a  final  leave  of  Mrs.  Preston,  although 
she  felt  there  was  a  small  prospect  of  her  ever  returning  to 
Merecombe.  A  note  was  written  for  Mr.  Wilmer — full  of  grat 
itude  for  past  kindnesses 

The  Gather  wood  carriage  came  for  her.  Mr.  Rutherford 
handed  her  in  with  his  usual  grave  courtesy  ;  and  Mrs.  Cath- 
erwood  gave  the  trembling  hand  a  soft  pressure.  For  an  in 
stant  their  eyes  met.  Those  of  the  elder  said  that  Lucia  Mac 
kenzie  had  found  a  lenient  judge,  whether  it  was  the  result  of 
her  warm  heart  or  the  manner  in  which  the  story  had  been  re 
lated.  There  was  not  much  opportunity  for  conversation,  but 
the  few  sentences  exchanged  were  most  reassuring. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  279 

"  My  child,"  she  said,  "  you  might  have  told  me  your  story 
before.  No  counsel  perhaps  is  as  reliable  as  a  mother's — and 
this  it  seems  you  have  missed  all  your  life.  I  know  how  to 
sympathize  .with  you." 

"  Oh  !  "  Lucia  returned  brokenly,  "  you  are  so  good.  I 
hardly  dared  hope.  It  seemed  as  if  every  one's  hand  would 
be  raised  against  me,  as  it  always  has  been." 

Mrs.  Catherwood  gave  her  a  look  that  was  far  sweeter  than 
a  smile. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said,  "  I  have  passed  the  heats  of  passion 
and  hasty  judgment.  Whether  your  first  step  was  a  wise  one 
it  is  not  necessary  now  to  discuss.  I  can  see  how  you  took  it 
with  the  best  of  motives.  It  is  hard  when  we  are  young  to 
bide  God's  time,  so  we  take  destiny  into  our  own  weak  hands 
and  make  a  sad  tangle  of  it.  But  it  is  better  that  you  should 
be  quite  free.  Have  you  any  plans  ?  " 

"  None,"  she  answered  shiveringly. 

"  Mr.  Rutherford  thinks  that  this  Mr. — Thorndike  is  per 
fectly  satisfied  with  his  present  relations  !  "  Mrs.  Catherwood 
said  hesitatingly. 

"  Yes,"  Lucia's  head  drooped  lower.  "  You  cannot  under 
stand  how  entirely  my  sister  suits  him.  And  for  the  child's 
sake  I  desire  to  do  the  best  I  can  for  them.  I  shrank  weakly 
from  the  pain  before,  but  now  I  will  be  strong  to  bear  suffering 
or  shame,  or  whatever  may  be  laid  upon  me." 

"  No  one  can  advise  at  present ;  but  I  want  you  to  feel  that 
you  have  a  true  friend  in  me,  one  not  easily  turned  about  by 
adverse  circumstances." 

Lucia  raised  her  shining  eyes  in  grateful  tears.  Was  the  world 
more  generous  than  she  had  thought  ?  Mrs.  Catherwood's 
quiet  firmness  gave  her  courage  to  breast  the  storm. 

She  begged  Lucia  to  promise,  before  they  parted,  that  she 
would  not  only  keep  her  informed  of  events,  but  in  any  strait 
apply  to  her  at  once. 

"  It  will  be  necessary  to  begin  an  entirely  new  life,"  Lucia 


280  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

said.  u  I  cannot  return  to  Merecombe  and  have  an  air  of  un 
explained  mystery  hanging  about  me." 

"  I  have  already  thought  of  this.  A  friend  of  mine  is  going 
abroad  in  the  course  of  a  few  months  and  would  like  to  have  a 
governess  for  her  daughter.  If  nothing  better  offers  this  can 
remain  open  to  you." 

"  Thank  you,';  Lucia  responded  with  deep  gratitude. 

Now  and  then  she  stole  a  look  at  Paul  Rutherford's  face. 
Were  there  some  lines  of  secret  dissatisfaction  ?  She  shivered 
at  the  fate  that  lay  before  him,  and  yet  she  could  not  warn. 
Were  all  best  purposes  crossed  and  thwarted,  noble  hearts 
wrung  with  pangs  of  keenest  anguish?  Who  was  happy  in 
this  dreary  world? 

It  was  mid-afternoon  when  they  parted.  She  would  reach 
Dedham  late  that  evening,  though  she  preferred  to  go  alone. 

Mr.  Rutherford  walked  across  the  platform  with  her.  A 
few  earnest,  heartfelt  wishes,  a  hope  that  this  step  might  be  the 
wisest  she  could  have  taken,  and  then  he  paused  with  a  strange, 
wistful  glance. 

She  uttered  her  farewell.  Then  she  came  back  a  step,  im 
pelled  by  a  peculiar  power. 

"  You  are  to  marry  Miss  Sturtevant,"  she  said  in  a  low, 
hurried  tone.  "  Oh,  be  sure  of  this  one  thing — that  she  loves 
you  with  every  fibre  of  brain  and  soul.  It  is  a  woman's  only 
safeguard,  a  man's  only  hope !  " 

He  seated  her  and  returned  to  Mrs.  Catherwood,  quite 
disinclined  for  conversation.  Was  it  a  wail  of  Lucia's  sad  life 
in  the  words,  or  some  subtle  fear  that  had  more  than  once 
shadowed  his  own  fancies  ? 

Lucia  settled  herself  in  her  seat.  Mr.  Rutherford  had  pro 
vided  her  with  some  papers,  but  she  did  not  care  to  read. 
She  must  summon  all  her  strength  for  the  coming  trial.  A  few 
sharp  pangs,  much  keen  censure,  and  perhaps  fierce  upbraiding, 
a  rending  of  the  ties  that  bound  her  to  kith  and  kin,  but  with  it 
all,  unquestioned  freedom.  No  secret  to  weigh  down  her  life. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  281 

Straightly,  swiftly  she  was  borne.  No  windings  and  doub 
lings  in  this  course  as  there  had  been  at  her  departure.  No 
culprit  fear  of  detection,  that  was  over.  Henceforward  the 
simplest  truth  was  to  guard  her  life.  She  had  wrought  misery 
enough  with  her  one  impatient,  lawless  step. 

The  afternoon  waned.  Down  the  sloping  skies  dropped 
the  sun.  Purple  twilight  gathered  at  the  edges  of  the  woods, 
and  the  long  line  of  gold  melted  into  rose  color.  Familiar  sta 
tions  began  to  greet  her.  Nearer,  nearer  to  fate — what  had  it 
in  store  for  her  ? 


282  Lucici:   Her  Problem. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

GOING   BACK. 

THE  south  wind  blew  up  sweeps  of  fragrance  from  the 
low-lying  meadow  lands,  and  the  sky  overhead  thinned 
into  tintless  space.  The  far  off  woods  threw  weird  outlines 
against  the  sea  of  pale  gold  in  the  west,  and  the  insects  began 
their  evening  hymns.  Lucia  Mackenzie  had  dropped  her 
brown  travelling  veil  long  before  she  reached  the  station  ;  and 
though  her  heart  beat  suffocatingly  at  every  stray  glance,  no 
one  gave  her  a  more  than  casual  notice. 

She  turned  into  the  high  road  that  skirted  the  town,  though 
it  was  much  changed.  The  hills  looked  lower,  the  woods 
dwarfed,  the  great  factories  were  shrouded  in  twilight,  and  the 
tall  chimneys  were  mere  points.  She  threaded  her  way  quickly, 
turning  her  head  now  and  then  as  if  some  weird  phantom  fol 
lowed  fast  upon  her  steps.  The  slightest  rustle  made  her  shiv 
er  and  her  pulses  beat  in  great  throbs. 

Only  one  turn  was  necessary.  The  narrow  lane  had  be 
come  a  populous  street,  but  the  faces  were  nearly  all  new. 
Warren  Thorndike's  predictions  bid  fair  to  be  realized.  She 
paused  and  glanced  furtively  across  the  open  space.  There 
was  the  old  brown  cottage  with  its  sloping  roof.  She  could 
see  the  chamber  window,  the  scene  of  many  a  smothered  mu 
tiny  or  despairing  wail  against  fate.  It  seemed  ages  since 
Lucy  Garth  stood  there  envying  the  very  swallows  that  twit 
tered  around  the  eaves. 

The  straight  path  up  the  small  courtyard,  the  open  door 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  283 

with  its  dusky  background,  and  a  bowed  figure  sitting  on  the 
step.  She  knew  that  well.  So  he  had  sat  one  summer  night 
years  ago. 

Her  limbs  trembled  with  a  strange  terror.  Flashes  of 
burning  heat  shivered  through  her  veins  at  one  moment,  and 
the  next  she  seemed  drenched  in  a  sea  of  fire.  Her  tongue 
clove  to  the  roof  of  her  mouth,  and  her  lips  stiffened  like  the 
coming  of  death.  Could  she  go  on  ? 

Pausing  at  the  gate  and  fumbling  around  the  latch  with 
unsteady  hands  startled  Mr.  Garth.  He  glanced  up  but  did 
not  move. 

Lucia  came  nearer  with  uncertain  steps.  The  prim  garden 
looked  chill  and  forbidding,  and  the  one  lamp  on  the  dining- 
table  threw  a  sickly  ray  in  the  hall.  She  saw  the  worn  and 
aged  face,  the  outlines  softened,  the  mouth  less  set  and  stern, 
and  the  eyes  with  a  kind  of  frightened,  piteous  appeal.  In  an 
instant  she  was  on  the  step  beside  him,  clasping  his  knees  and 
covering  the  thin  hands  with  kisses. 

"  Father  !  father  !  It  is  Lucy  come  back  !  Oh,  if  you 
have  any  lingering  love,  any  pity  or  tenderness,  bestow  it  upon 
me  now  !  Your  sorrowful,  repentant  Lucy,  whom  you  have 
all  thought  dead  !  " 

He  looked  at  her  in  amaze,  raising  the  tearful  face  and 
studying  it  in  a  vague  way.  Not  shocked  as  she  supposed  he 
would  be,  and  then  another  terror  seized  her.  What  if  the 
once  strong  mind  wavered  in  the  balance  ? 

"  Lucy  !  "  he  repeated  mechanically. — "  Lucy  was  drown 
ed,  you  know.  They  brought  her  home,  and  she  is  buried  in 
the  churchyard." 

"  No,  it  was  a  mistake.     Look  at  me,  father !  " 

She  threw  aside  her  hat  and  mantle  and  faced  the  flicker 
ing  ray  of  light. 

"My  God  !  "  he  exclaimed  in  wild  affright.  "It  is  Lucia 
Mackenzie  ! " 

"  Your  own  Lucy,  father.     Do  not   cast  her  out  of  your 


284  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

heart.  Weak,  wilful,  and  yet  repentant.  Oh,  shall  man  be 
more  severe  than  God  ?  I  think  I  must  have  been  beside  my 
self  when  I  went  away,  but  I  have  come  back  to  tell  the  truth 
for  all  our  sakes." 

Her  vehemence  stirred  the  slow  pulses  of  the  old  man. 

"  It  is  like  Lucy's  voice,"  he  said  wanderingly.  "  It  is 
Lucy's  golden  hair  and  fair  face.  God  must  have  made  her 
beautiful,  but  it  was  a  snare  to  the  child.  Yes,  I  am  quite 
sure  that  she  is  dead." 

"  Where  is  Rachel — my  sister  ?  "  she  asked  in  despair. 

"  Rachel  ?  Rachel  is  dead,  too,  you  know.  Her  little  girl 
is  up  stairs  asleep." 

Mr.  Garth  studied  the  face  before  him  attentively.  He 
threaded  the  soft  hair  with  his  fingers  until  the  tumbled  ends 
began  to  curl ;  he  touched  the  fair  cheek  and  looked  into  the 
deep,  tremulous  eyes,  swimming  in  waves  of  tears. 

"  Rachel  dead  ?     Oh  no,  you  are  mistaken." 

"  Come  and  see  her  child.     It  is  all  I  have  now." 

He  took  the  lamp  and  led  the  way.  FeeMe,  faltering 
steps,  and  the  arm  shaking  so  that  she  feared  for  the  safety 
of  the  light. 

"  She  is  in  here.  I  called  her  Lucy  for  the  one  we  lost, 
and  because  her  hair  was  pale  gold.  You  won't  take  her 
away  ? "  piteously. 

"  Oh  no,  no."  Her  tears  were  falling  fast  now.  She  had 
come  too  late  ! 

A  miniature  face,  white  and  thin,  and  with  that  grown-up, 
wise  look  which  you  sometimes  see  on  the  countenances  of 
those  early  familiarized  with  care — sweet  withal,  the  scarlet 
lips  parted  into  a  half  smile,  and  the  small  chin  cleft  with  a 
dimple. 

"  My  darling,"  he  murmured,  toying  with  the  scanty  locks 
of  hair  cropped  close.  "The  one  treasure  left  me." 

The  child  moved  uneasily,  the  light  full  in  her  eyes  par 
tially  rousing  her. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  285 

A  great  wave  of  pain  and  apprehension  stole  over  Lucia. 
The  house  was  so  deathly  quiet,  and  the  very  air  seemed  filled 
with  phantoms.  Was  Rachel  indeed  gone  ? 

The  child  opened  its  eyes.  "  Grandfather  !  "  exclaimed 
the  small  voice  with  precise  accent.  "  Oh,  grandfather,  who 
is  this  ? " 

"  Child,"  Lucia  said  hurriedly,  "  where  is  your  mother  ? " 

"  Mother  is  dead,"  she  answered  solemnly.  "  Grandfather, 
didn't  you  tell  this  lady  that  they  took  mother  away  in  a  box 
— to  heaven  ? " 

It  was  true,  then !  Lucia  sank  by  the  side  of  the  bed, 
overwhelmed.  Rachel  was  spared  that  pain. 

"  Who  is  it,  grandfather  ? " 

Mr.  Garth  placed  the  lamp  upon  the  table,  and  then  looked 
at  her  wonderingly. 

Oh,  would  no  one  ever  acknowledge  her  again  ! 

A  step  came  stumbling  up  the  stairs,  and  it  seemed  to  rasp 
every  nerve  in  her  body.  She  rose,  summoning  all  her  strength. 

Warren  Thorndike  confronted  her  in  the  door-way.  A 
hard,  pitiless  face,  quite  changed  since  the  time  she  had 
thought  him  a  hero. 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  he  ejaculated.  "  Does  the  grave  give 
up  its  dead  ?  Lucy  Thorndike !  or  is  it  some  accursed  phan 
tom  ? " 

Mr.  Garth  started  at  the  name,  and  a  gleam  of  recognition 
shot  into  his  dim  eyes. 

"  So  you  thought  you  would  come  !  "  Thorndike  said  taunt 
ingly.  "  But  I  tell  you  it  is  too  late,  even  if  she  is  dead.  I  am 
beginning  to  prosper  again,  and  no  woman's  extravagance  shall 
ruin  me  this  time  !  " 

A  sordid  light  shone  in  the  small,  eager  eyes.  Money 
had  become  his  God. 

She  made  a  gesture  of  such  supreme  contempt  that  it  pene 
trated  even  his  dull  brain. 

"I  ask  nothing  of  you,  Warren  Thorndike,"  she  answered 


286  Lucia:   Tier  Problem. 

in  an  icily  clear  tone.  "  I  came  because  an  enemy  had  in 
vaded  the  secresy  with  which  I  had  chosen  to  surround  myself. 
I  did  not  know  until  then  that  Rachel  was  your  wife,  but  for 
her  sake  and  your  child's  sake,  I  preferred  that  you  should 
hear  the  story  from  me,  rather  than  from  one  who  might  use 
it  for  his  own  selfish  purposes.  I  will  admit  that  I  have  for 
feited  all  claim  upon  your  consideration,  and  will  never  oppose 
any  effort  that  you  may  make  for  legal  freedom.  If  my  father 
desires,  I  will  go  again  into  exile." 

Mr.  Garth  came  nearer.  He  seized  her  arm  and  gave  a 
low  cry,  a  sound  that  touched  her  to  the  depths  of  the  soul. 

"  She  is  mine  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  my  child.  We  were  both 
hard  upon  her  in  those  old  days,  but  you  have  no  right  to  her, 
Thorndike.  She  is  mine  ! " 

And  hearing  these  blessed  words  of  ownership,  Lucia  fell 
sobbing  into  her  father's  arms. 

"  I  don't  want  her,"  declared  Thorndike  gruffly.  "  She 
was  always  too  fine  a  lady  for  me.  I  know  she  laughed  in  se 
cret  over  my  ways,  that  were  different  from  her  grand  friends. 
She  cared  only  for  my  money,  but  she'll  never  get  a  penny  of 
that ! " 

"  She  shall  have  enough,"  said  Mr.  Garth  tremulously. 

"  My  child !  my  child  !  " 

Lucy's  clasp  tightened.  A  thanksgiving  went  up  from  her 
full  soul.  To  be  ireceived  gladly  by  any  human  being  was  a 
luxury  now. 

"  You  remember  me !"  she  whispered.  "  Take  me  back  to 
your  heart,  and  I  will  be  your  child  indeed.  God  has  been 
merciful  to  us  both." 

"  It  seems  sometimes  as  if  I  had  lost  the  way,"  he  went  on 
in  a  wandering  tone,  "  and  then  He  leads,  Lucy.  I  don't 
trouble  myself  now.  When  you  went  away  you  kissed  me — 
do  you  remember,  child  ?  Kiss  me  again,  that  I  may  know  it 
is  you." 

She  kissed  the  soft,  withered  lips  not  once,  but  many  times, 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  287 

and  their  tears  mingled  together.  He  was  much  agitated  and 
trembled  like  a  leaf,  so  she  drew  him  to  the  chintz  covered 
lounge. 

Warren  Thorndike  went  to  his  own  room.  The  child  crept 
out  of  bed  and  climbed  on  her  grandfather's  knee. 

"  You  are  the  beautiful  Aunt  Lucy  in  the  picture,"  she 
said  wonderingly.  "  Mother  told  me  it  was  wicked  to  be 
beautiful,  but  you  are  not  wicked,  are  you  ? " 

"  I  am  trying  to  be  good,"  Lucy  said  in  strange  awe  of 
those  large  questioning  eyes. 

"  Will  you  stay  here  ?  " 

"  She  is  to  stay  here.     And  her  name  is  Lucia." 

"  Father !  " 

For  his  own  free  use  of  that  term  made  her  cling  more  ten 
derly  to  him. 

"  It  was  your  mother's  wish,  child.  You  looked  so  fearful 
ly  like  her  as  you  stood  in  the  hall.  She  loved  me  once — I 
can't  remember  all,  but  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  shut  in  prison. 
God  forgive  my  hardness  to  her !  I  thought  it  a  duty  when  she 
rebelled — for  she  was  high-spirited  and  refused  to  listen  to  ad 
monition.  I  meant  to  do  right.  Will  you  stay  with  me  and 
teach  me  ?  We  all  wander  into  forbidden  paths — heaven  help 
us!" 

How  changed,  how  broken  !  She  had  not  come  a  day  too 
soon. 

"  When  did  Rachel  die  ? "  she  asked  in  a  low,  awesome 
tone,  for  the  fact  had  seemed  at  first  simply  incredible. 

"  Last  week.  The  place  is  dreary  and  lonesome,  my  dar 
ling.  We  will  go  away  and  begin  a  new  life — you,  I,  and 
the  child.  Are  you  cold,  little  one  ? " 

"  Not  here,  grandfather.     Aunt  Lucia's  arm  is  around  me." 

There  was  something  painful  in  this  precision.  The  free 
dom  and  carelessness  of  childhood  had  been  sternly  repressed'. 

"  Was  she  ill  long  ? "  Lucia  continued,  thinking  of  Rachel 
and  the  strange  mystery  attending  death. 


288  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  She  was  never  sick,  nor  complained,  but  just  drooped  af 
ter  the  little  one  was  born.  I  believe  she  never  took  kindly  to 
the  child.  And  so  it  went  on,  but  she  would  not  spare  herself. 
They  wanted  to  be  richer  and  richer.  And  then  one  day  she 
fainted  at  her  sweeping,  and  they  brought  her  to  her  room. 
She  never  went  out  of  it  again  until  she  was  carried." 

"  Oh,  father !     And  did  she  not  soften  at  the  last  ?  " 

"  She  was  peculiar,  you  know.  I  used  to  take  great  pride 
in  her,  but  somehow — and  after  you  went  away — " 

Lucia  understood  the  end  ;  sad  for  any  human  life.  She 
gave  Rachel  the  tenderest  and  profoundest  pity.  There  was  a 
strange  yearning  in  her  heart  to  call  back  her  sister  and  bright 
en  the  lost  years  with  love. 

Alas  !  Are  there  some  natures  fatally  endowed  with  rigid 
strength  that  refuses  alike  sympathy  and  affection  ?  It  seems 
so.  Rachel  Garth  died  as  she  had  lived,  and  God,  who  is  the 
judge,  knew  best  what  measure  was  to  be  meted  unto  her. 
Perhaps  in  that  lovelier  clime  its  lost  birthright  came  back  to 
the  poor  warped  soul,  that  with  all  its  worldly  wealth  had  suf 
fered  from  starvation  and  indigence.  The  narrow  creed  melted 
in  that  endless  day  where  all  is  warmth  and  beauty.  God  in 
His  mercy  took  account  of  the  good  deeds  that  were  hindered 
and  straightened  by  the  darkness  in  which  her  soul  had 
existed. 

"Why  did  you  go  away,  child  ? "  Mr.  Garth  asked  presently. 

"Because  I  was  wayward  and  rash.  I  thought  I  could 
not  bear  the  burden  laid  upon  me." 

"  I  remember  it  all  now.  You  were  so  different.  In  those 
old  days  I  tried  to  bend  you  to  my  will,  and  there  was  war  be 
tween  us." 

"  But  it  is  ended  now." 

She  nestled  closer  to  him.  Love  was  sweet  at  this  late 
dawn,  even  if  its  current  was  weak  and  wandering. 

"Yes.  You  will  not  leave  me  again  ?  I  am  not  the  strong 
man  I  used  to  be,  Lucia. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

It  was  curious  that  he  should  cling  to  that  long  unspoken 
name. 

"Where  did  you  go?"  he  asked  suddenly.  "Were  you 
with  friends  ? " 

"  I  found  them — kind,  generous  friends.  I  have  been  in  no 
want,  no  trouble." 

Then  she  related  all  that  had  befallen  her.  The  child  lis 
tened  awhile  and  presently  fell  asleep  in  the  encircling  arms. 
The  late  moon  stole  in  the  window,  telling  that  it  was  near 
midnight. 

"  You  will  sleep  here  with  her"  he  said.  "  She  seldom 
goes  out  of  my  sight  now.  Poor  baby !  " 

He  kissed  the  sleeping  child  tenderly.  Lucia  could 
hardly  believe  the  change  that  had  come  over  him.  In  the 
dulness  of  the  brain  the  heart  had  grown  more  clear  and 
tender. 

She  carried  little  Lucy  back  to  bed.  Her  father  watched 
her  wistfully. 

"  It's  like  a  dream — your  coming  back.  Sometimes  I  have 
sat  out  there  on  the  door-stone  and  listened  for  your  step. 
All  they  cared  for,  you  know,  was  money — night  and  morning, 
working  and  striving.  I  used  to  be  like  them,  but  it  has  all 
been  different  since  you  went  away." 

"There  is  something  better  and  higher  than  gold,"  she 
said,  laying  her  bright  young  cheek  beside  the  one  so  wan  and 
wrinkled. 

"  Good-night,  child." 

She  seemed  almost  afraid  to  let  him  go. 

Even  after  he  had  reached  the  door  he  turned  back  and 
glanced  furtively  around  with  an  air  of  mystery. 

"  Lucia  " — in  a  whisper — "  you  belong  to  me,  you  know. 
Now  that  Rachel  is  dead — he  may  think — but  you  won't  go 
back  to  him  ?  "  piteously. 

"  No  !  no  !  a  thousand  times  no  !  Nothing  shall  ever  sep 
arate  us." 

13 


290  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

She  smiled  with  clear,  fervent  eyes,  and  he  took  the  expres 
sion  with  him  as  a  ray  of  vivifying  sunrise. 

Lucia  had  no  thought  of  sleep — weary  as  she  was.  She 
flung  herself  on  her  knees  beside  the  bed,  and  though  her 
prayer  was  broken  by  sobs  and  tears,  and  uttered  in  fragments, 
it  was  none  the  less  acceptable  to  the  God  who  listens  to  the 
weakest  of  his  children. 

She  was  thankful  to  be  at  home  once  more.  Her  duty  was 
here.  This  poor  father  depended  upon  some  one  for  love  and 
care,  perhaps  to  grow  more  wandering  and  feeble  as  the  years 
went  on ;  and  baby  Lucy — if  Warren  Thorndike  should  not 
take  her  away  in  a  moment  of  petty  spite.  She  studied  the 
pale  little  face  that  looked  as  if  it  might  be  sculptured  in  mar 
ble,  it  was  so  still  and  repressed  ;  and  yet  with  a  certain  rare 
beauty  that  appealed  to  her  more  powerfully  than  mere  material 
perfection. 

The  morning  dawned  upon  her  vigil.  The  old  sounds  and 
sights  of  Dedham  began.  Columns  of  smoke  from  the  tall 
chimneys,  the  whirr  of  machinery  being  set  in  motion,  shrill 
whistles  and  the  clang  of  busy  hammers.  It  all  served  to 
bring  her  to  herself.  She  bathed  her  face  and  brushed  her 
disordered  hair,  when  Lucy  woke  and  claimed  her  attention, 
though  the  child's  deft  fingers  worked  marvels  with  buttons 
and  strings.  There  was  a  low  tap  at  the  door. 

"  It  is  grandfather." 

In  this  clear  morning  light  she  could  see  the  change  time 
had  wrought  in  him.  Her  heart  smote  her  bitterly  for  past  neg 
lect  and  lack  of  tender  love.  Ah,  if  her  whole  life  might  make 
amends ! 

They  went  down  to  breakfast  together.  Mr.  Thorndike 
had  gone.  Since  Rachel's  death  the  regular  habits  of  the 
house  had  been  sadly  broken  in  upon.  Martha,  the  rather 
bright  and  flippant  maid-servant,  eyed  the  new-comer  with  the 
most  complete  astonishment.  She  had  been  off  gossiping  the 
night  before  and  knew  nothing  of  the  arrival. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  291 

When  questioned,  Lucy  replied  sharply — 

"  It  is  my  Aunt  Lucia,  who  came  last  night." 

Mr.  Thorndike  had  been  considering  the  strange  aspect  of 
affairs  with  much  doubt  and  misgiving.  To  him  it  seemed  a 
most  probable  event  that  Lucia  would  insist  upon  being  re 
stored  to  her  rights,  since  she  had  some  legal  claim  upon  him. 
The  man  had  grown  so  close  and  miserly  that  a  few  hundreds 
were  like  untold  treasures  to  him.  And  he  held  for  Lucia  a 
narrow,  grudging  hate,  as  if  in  some  way  she  had  wronged  him 
out  of  precious  years  and  precious  gold. 

A  dozen  different  resolves  had  passed  through  his  mind — 
and  he  came  home  at  noon  determined  that  the  matter  should 
be  speedily  settled,  especially  as  he  was  to  be  absent  the  next 
few  days  upon  business. 

Lucia  had  been  considering  the  same  subject.  It  would  be 
quite  impossible  to  resume  pleasant  family  relations  in  such  an 
incongruous  household.  If  she  could  persuade  her  father  to 
go  away  to  some  quiet  spot,  and  if  Mr.  Thorndike  would  con 
fide  to  them  the  care  of  the  child ! 

She  had  again  related  her  story  to  her  father,  listening  in 
return  to  her  supposed  burial,  and  all  that  occurred  during  her 
absence,  though  the  years  at  Dedham  had  not  proved  eventful. 
Lucy  clung  to  her  in  wondering  awe — the  fact  that  grandfather 
loved  the  stranger  was  sufficient  for  her  small  brain. 

Warren  Thorndike  opened  the  subject.  He  had  not  been 
famous  for  delicacy  in  *he  old  days,  and  coarseness  had  grown 
upon  him.  But  he  found  a  different  opponent  from  the  one 
of  his  imagination. 

There  flashed  in  Lucia's  face  a  touch  of  high  spirit  and 
dignity. 

"  I  ask  nothing  from  you,"  she  made  answer  in  a  clear,  de 
cisive  tone,  "  unless  you  desire  to  give  me  freedom — and  even 
that  is  of  but  small  importance.  As  for  your  fortune,  leave  it 
all  to  your  child.  Not  one  dollar  of  it  would  I  ever  accept." 

He  felt  now,  as  he  had  so  many  times  before,  that  in  some 


292  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

inexplicable  way  she  was  superior  to  him.  He  would  have 
liked  better,  after  all,  to  see  her  a  supplicant,  and  refuse  her. 
and  he  could  not  restrain  his  overbearing  temper. 

Once  she  might  have  replied  to  such  a  tirade — but  now 
she  listened  in  silent  scorn.  For  her  father's  sake,  ht  should 
not  rouse  her  into  passion. 

Warren  Thorndike  marched  out  of  the  house  in  a  blustering 
rage.  He  bethought  himself  that  he  could  stab  them  both 
through  his  child. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  293 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

OUT   OF   THE   SHADOW. 

IF  we  could  go  away !  "  Lucia  exclaimed,  turning  to  her 
father. 

He  looked  so  helpless  and  frightened. 

"  We  must  take  the  child,"  he  said  ;  "  I  cannot  live  without 
her." 

Lucy's  eyes  were  large  and  full  of  strange  meaning. 

"  What  made  my  father  so  angry  ?  "  she  asked,  clinging  to 
the  trembling  figure. 

"  Hush,  dear — we  will  forget  all  about  it,"  returned  Lucia, 
in  a  soothing  voice. 

But  she  could  not  forget.  A  new  and  fierce  trial  seemed 
staring  her  in  the  face.  To  shield  her  father  from  pain  would 
be  her  first  study  now. 

Two  very  peculiar  days  passed.  Dedham  was  in  a  whi/l  ~' 
excitement  when  it  was  rumored  that  Lucy  TL  irndike  wa-  not 
dead  but  had  returned  to  her  father's  house.  Two  or  :.hree 
over-curious  gossips  determined  to  see  with  their  own  pyes ; 
but  their  attempts  were  frustrated  by  Lucia's  positive  refusal 
to  admit  any  visitors.  She  wrote  to  Mrs.  Catherwood,  an 
nouncing  her  safety,  and  making  a  few  explanations.  Mr. 
Rutherford  had  said — 

"  I  shall  hear  from  you  through  he/,"  and  she  thanked  him 
for  his  delicacy. 

So  she  waited.  No  plans  could  be  made  at  pressnt — but 
go  away  they  must.  She  could  not  endure  the  notoriety  that 


294  Lucia  :    Her  Problem. 

would  ensue  ;  and  after  a  few  years  spent  in  an  atmosphere  of 
refinement  and  truth,  this  seemed  the  more  unendurable.  Her 
brief  reign  here  was  hateful  to  her  memory.  The  Glenfields 
had  removed  to  a  city — but  the  old  circle  still  remained.  Ah, 
how  she  despised  its  follies  and  senseless  rivalries  !  Seen  in 
this  purer  light,  they  appeared  debasing. 

The  summer  day  had  been  warm  and  oppressive.  The 
yery  air  seemed  full  of  molten  heat,  and  the  wafts  wandering  in 
at  the  windows  scorched  her  with  their  glare.  A  peculiar  day 
with  a  vague  sense  of  danger  and  dismay  in  every  passing 
breeze.  A  chill  presentiment  haunted  her  as  if  fate  held  a 
sharp  turn  for  her  in  its  grasp.  She  was  in  a  subtle,  question 
ing  mood — but  there  was  no  stronger  soul  to  whom  she  could 
turn  her  eager  eyes. 

At  mid-afternoon  the  electric  currents  terminated  in  a  storm. 
A  fierce,  blinding  shower  at  first,  with  rolls  of  heavy  thunder 
and  flaming  tongues  of  lightning.  The  blackness  settled  into 
gray  presently,  and  the  torrents  subsided  to  a  steady  patter. 
Lucia  sat  with  the  child  upon  her  lap,  singing  in  her  clear, 
beautiful  voice. 

Martha  came  in  to  arrange  the  table. 

"There's  been  a  dreadful  accident  at  Putney,  Miss,"  she 
announced  in  her  flippant  way.  "  A  train  of  cars  smashed, 
and  dozens  of  people  killed  !  They  say  all  the  Harolds  were 
on  the  train — been  visiting  at  their  grandmother's." 

Lucia  shuddered. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Mr.  Garth,  rousing. 

Martha  enlarged  upon  her  first  terse  account.  Only  a  frag 
ment  of  news  had  reached  Dedham,  or  at  least  Martha,  but  she 
made  the  most  of  it. 

"  Thorndike  wasn't  coming  back  until  to-morrow — was  he 
Lucia  ? " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  I  think  not  until  to-morrow,  I  am  quite  sure,"  nodding  his 
head  confidently. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  295 

"  I  hope  so,''  in  an  absent  way.  Men  like  Warren 
Thorndike  generally  escaped  dangers ;  so  she .  hardly  felt 
alarmed. 

"  Sing  again,"  Lucy  said,  climbing  in  her  aunt's  lap  after 
the  meal  had  ended. 

So  they  three  sat  there  in  the  summer  evening,  the  child 
and  Mr.  Garth  listening  to  the  rare  melody.  In  the  pauses 
came  the  patter  of  rain  on  the  leaves  without  or  a  low  sweep 
of  the  wind  with  its  sad  undertone. 

'*  If  they  could  be  together  always,"  Lucia  thought ;  for  this 
strange  little  being  had  awakened  a  strong  interest  in  her  heart. 
It  filled  her  mind  with  softened  memories  of  Rachel. 

The  child  reached  up  to  kiss  her.  Soft,  clinging  baby  arms 
around  her  neck,  that  brought  a  tremble  to  her  voice  and  tears 
to  her  eyes.  If  such  waxen  fingers  had  come  to  hold  her  back 
in  the  old  years  !  If  the  greater  love  could  have  saved  through 
the  sweet  channels  of  babyhood  ! 

Ah,  it  seemed  as  if  she  knew  then  what  her  whole  life  had 
missed.  The  love  that  redeems,  not  the  fancies  that  vitiate, 
nor  the  fever  heat  of  passions  which  destroy. 

"  Do  you  think  my  mother  will  sing  in  heaven  ? "  the  child 
asked.  "Mr.  Howe  said  the  angels  always  did.  Are  there 
any  beside  angels  there  ? " 

"  No,  my  child." 

"  I  wish  she  had  sung  to  me  once,  just  once.  I  should 
know  then  how  it  was  up  there,"  and  the  small  head  was  nod 
ded  mysteriously. 

"  The  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is  within  you,"  Mr.  Garth  began 
in  his  slow,  sententious  way.  "  I  used  to  think  it  so  far  off,  and 
life  so  long.  Do  you  believe  He  will  forgive  all  those  wasted 
years,  Lucia  ?  You  may  have  the  money  now  to  spend,  my 
darling,  you  may  give  it  away  to  the  poor  and  needy  ;  it  never 
did  me  any  good." 

"  But  we  will  have  a  pleasant  home,  and  try  what  'can  be 
done.  We  will  work  together  and  love  each  other  to  the  end. 


296  Lucia  :  Her  Problem. 

Oh,  how  wise  and  good  it  was  in  God  to  send  me  back  just  at 
this  time.  Dear  father  !  " 

He  came  and  leaned  over  her  chair,  kissed  the  fair  fore 
head  and  threaded  his  fingers  in  with  little  Lucy's.  They  had 
her  a  prisoner  now.  Unwittingly  he  smiled  at  the  quaint  con 
ceit. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  a  home.  It  was  what  she  wanted,"  in 
his  slow  wandering  way.  "  Flowers  and  pictures  and  bright 
ness.  I  did  not  know  then — "  and  his  voice  sank  to  a  pite 
ous  whisper.  "  But  I'll  make  it  all  up  to  you.  And  at  the 
last  you'll  tell  her,  Lucia,  that  I  repented  sorely,  that  I  hated 
my  blindness  and  cruelty.  You  will  beg  her  to  forgive." 

"  She  has  forgiven,  I  know.  Ransomed  souls  are  washed 
from  all  earthly  sins  and  stains  and  weaknesses." 

"  You  think  she  has  ?  I  hardly  dare  ask  God  if  I  might 
hope." 

Lucia's  tears  fell  on  the  withered  hand.  Ah,  how  much 
repentance  and  forgiveness  they  all  needed! 

A  heavy  knock  at  the  door  startled  them,  and  Lucia  faced 
the  interruption. 

An  old  neighbor,  Mr.  Bowen.  He  looked  sharply  at  them 
all. 

"  Haven't  heard  the  news,  I  s'pose  ? "  he  asked  eagerly. 

"  About  the  accident  ?  Martha  mentioned  it.  Terrible  af 
fair  ; "  and  Mr.  Garth  handed  out  a  seat  for  the  visitor. 

"  No,  thank'ee.  I  just  came  in  to  say — they're  goin'  down, 
a  crowd  of  them,  t'see  the  wounded.  You  didn't  think  that 
Thorndike— " 

"  No  ;  he  was  not  to  come  until  to-morrow." 

"  He's  there  among  them  !  " 

"  Not  killed  !  not  dead  !  "  and  Lucia  sprang  up.  Why  a 
moment  ago  he  seemed  a  blot  and  a  shadow  on  all  their  lives. 

"  Badly  hurt,  I've  heard.     Maybe  you'd  like  to  go  down  ? " 

"  Yes,"  Lucia  said,  dizzy,  and  struck  with  sharp  anguish. 

Mr.  Garth  stared  wildly. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  297 

"  No,  it  can't  be,"  he  said  with  a  quavering  sound  in  his 
voice.  "  Do  you  want  to  see  him,  Lucia  ?  " 

She  never  could  tell  why  she  considered  it  such  an  imper 
ative  duty.  He  had  left  her  in  a  passion  of  rude  anger,  and 
might  spurn  her  now  —  yet  she  felt  that  she  must  go. 

"  Yes  ;  "  she  answered  in  a  wild,  tremulous  tone. 

"  But  you  must  not  be  alone." 

She  glanced  at  him  questioningly.  Could  he  endure  the 
shock  ?  But  he  was  right  enough  there  ;  bhe  must  have  a  com 
panion. 

"  You  mustn't  stop  long  to  think,  "  said  Mr.  Bowen,  warn- 


"No" 

She  placed  the  affrighted  child  in  Martha's  care,  and  hur 
ried  on  her  hat  and  shawl.  Mr.  Garth  groped  for  his  cane, 
and  stood  in  the  hall  awaiting  her. 

Down  the  dark,  wet  street  they  walked,  a  sudden  gust  now 
and  then  shaking  a  shower  out  of  the  trees.  The  two  clung 
together  in  silence.  Mr.  Garth's  brain  was  too  slow  and  wan 
dering  to  seize  upon  any  immediate  sense  of  danger. 

Lucia  did  not  think  at  all.  A  horrible  fear  held  her  in  a 
giant's  grasp.  Not  any  latent  love  for  the  man  who  might  be 
in  deadly  peril,  but  a  feeling  that  had  outlived  passion  of  any 
kind. 

At  the  station  more  than  one  familiar  face  gave  her  an  as 
tonished  stare.  On  moved  the  train.  A  little  knot  here,  in  a 
buzz  of  conversation  ;  men  leaning  over  the  backs  of  seats  ; 
and  women  with  their  handkerchiefs  to  their  eyes.  She  sat 
like  a  statue. 

An  hour's  ride  brought  them  to  Putney.  The  debris  had  not 
been  cleared  away,  and  the  workmen's  lanterns  flashed  hither 
and  thither.  The  waiting-room  was  filled  with  eager  faces  and 
subdued  tones.  At  one  end,  on  a  rude  stretcher,  lay  several 
mangled  bodies  ;  but  most  of  the  wounded  had  been  removed 
to  the  hotel  and  cottages  in  the  vicinity. 


-298  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  Sad  affair  !  "  exclaimed  some  one.  "  Oh,  Garth — you're 
heard?  Thorndike  was  taken  to  the  hotel.  An  ugly  blow 
on  his  head,  and — " 

"  Doctor's  just  left  him,"  announced  another.  "  Doubtful 
case." 

Lucia  knew  by  the  tone  there  could  be  no  doubt  about  it. 
The  worst  had  befallen  him,  and  she  understood  now  why  she 
had  come.  The  day's  impressions  were  no  longer  a  mystery 
to  her. 

They  threaded  their  way  through  the  crowd,  holding  tightly 
to  each  other's  arm.  Up  the  soft,  carpeted  stairway  to  the 
spacious  room  where  Warren  Thorndike  lay  dying. 

There  was  a  serious  internal  injury,  accompanied  with  fa 
tal  hemorrhage,  besides  the  blow  above  the  temple.  The  doc 
tor  had  looked  on  for  the  last  time,  when  he  said — 

"  He  can  live  but  a  few  .hours." 

Whether  it  was  loss  of  blood  or  the  absence  of  human 
passions  in  this  extremity,  but  whatever  of  grace  or  tenderness 
the  man's  face  had  known  came  out  in  it  now.  Deathly  pale, 
but  with  no  fearful  ghastliness,  calm  and  tranquil,  for  it  was 
past  pain,  and  with  a  something  that  no  eyes  but  Lucia's  had 
ever  seen  in  it. 

It  pained  her  keenly,  too.  If  she  had  loved  him,  these 
last  moments  would  have  been  exceedingly  precious  to  her  ; 
but  he  belonged  by  right  to  the  one  in  her  grave.  Lucia  was 
jealous  for  her  sake,  and  every  smile,  faint  and  wandering  as 
it  was,  became  a  torture  to  her. 

Now  and  then  the  lips  moved.  Once  she  bent  over  him 
to  catch  a  word. 

"  You  shall  have  it !  "  he  murmured  just  above  his  breath. 
"You  shall  outshine  them  all!  Why  don't  you  wear  curls? 
I  liked  them  first — that  night  you  know  !  " 

Lucia's  old  girlish  vanity  was  humbled  in  the  dust.  Why 
must  he  go  back  to  this  time  ? 

Fainter  grew  the  sounds.     Midnight  came,  with  the  gray 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  299 

shadow  of  dawn  lagging  in  the  distance.  Morning  followed, 
and  with  it  a  still  and  shrouded  face.  Lucia  laid  a  napkin 
over  it  and  prayed  for  his  soul.  Perhaps  he  had  loved  her 
more  than  either  of  them  knew.  Her  heart  trembled  with  pro 
found  pity.  Would  God  gather  the  best  out  of  the  two  wreck 
ed  lives,  blind  as  they  had  been  ! 

Mr.  Garth  watched  her  with  wondering  eyes.  Some  dim 
idea  of  her  strength,  her  great  tenderness,  and  the  rough  paths 
others  had  made  for  her  feet,  struck  him  with  a  latent  remorse. 
If  he  could  go  back  and  have  it  all  different ! 

He  spoke  of  it  in  his  trembling,  broken  manner. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  but  the  wrong  was  not  all  your  fault,  nor 
his.  I  should  not  have  married  this  man.  I  sinned  against 
him  and  myself  on  our  bridal  day,  and  God  punished  me. 
But  that  is  all  past,  and  He  has  brought  us  to  pleasant  ways." 

They  returned  to  Dedham.  There  was  more  than  one 
procession  to  the  old  graveyard,  and  more  than  one  house  of 
mourning.  The  disaster  spread  a  universal  gloom  over  the 
village,  and  drew  the  inhabitants  together  by  a  bond  of  gener 
al  sympathy. 


300  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE   NEW   DAWN. 

AFTER   the   funeral  Lucia   found  their   circle   widening. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Howe  came  with  the  kindness  of  old  and 
tried  friends.     The  many  virtues  hidden  from  girlhood's  care 
less  eyes  were  now  discovered,  and  she  stood  amazed  at  her 
olden  blindness. 

*'•"  No  one  ventured  to  discuss  the  past  with  her.  There  was 
a  dignity  which  forbade  any  approach  of  impertinent  freedom, 
and  the  most  curious  stood  respectfully  aloof. 

It  was  like  a  strange  dream  to  Lucia.  She  could  hardly 
understand  how  the  incidents  that  had  appeared  so  terrible 
and  fatal  to  her  in  their  inception  should  have  led  to  these  re 
sults.  But  for  Mr.  Marchmont's  wild  love  and  impatient  en 
deavor  she  would  have  remained  in  Mcrecombe,  going  on  qui 
etly  from  year  to  year. 

Would  he  follow  her  thither  ?  She  had  a  great  dread  at 
first. 

And  she  remembered  then  that  some  pressing  duties  stared 
her  in  the  face.  She  wrote  a  long  letter  to  Mrs.  Catherwood, 
detailing  the  sad  circumstances.  In  spite  of  his  cruel  sneers 
and  the  utter  repudiation,  she  could  not  help  experiencing  a 
profound  pity  for  Warren  Thorndike.  Both  had  made  a  terri 
ble  mistake,  it  was  more  that  than  sin.  She  had  meant  to 
love  him  truly,  and  if  he  had  been  a  little  tenderer  in  his  mis 
fortunes  she  would  have  devoted  every  energy,  nay,  her  whole 
life  to  him. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  301 

For  after  all,  adoration  is  the  inborn  impulse  of  nearly  every 
woman's  soul,  and  each  human  being  longs  unconsciously  for 
the  love  that  is  superior  to  its  own  powers  and  its  own  will. 
And  if  the  world  at  large  could  learn,  could  turn  it  to  a  wise 
account  instead  of  dragging  it  through  the  dust  at  a  tyrant's 
feet,  we  should  all  be  better  and  nobler.  It  is  not  only  the 
slave  who  suffers  in  this,  as  in  every  other  unjust  warfare,  but 
the  tyrant  as  well.  The  outrage  of  some  laws  brings  a  fearful 
retribution  even  in  this  world. 

But  she  felt  that  she  could  never  explain  the  story  to  Mr. 
Wilmer  by  letter.  If  he  would  but  come ! 

Lucia  understood  that  she  needed  a* clear  eyed  and  com 
prehensive  friend  for  her  own  life  as  well.  Mr.  Rutherford  had 
fallen  out  of  it.  What  he  might  have  been  she  had  now  no 
right  to  ask,  and  she  bowed  her  head  in  acquiescence.  She 
was  to  gather  the  fragments  of  a  life  vexed  and  hindered  of  its 
best  estate,  and  shaping  it  into  whatever  earthly  beauty  and 
perfection  was  possible  for  the  late  autumn  time,  make  no  out 
ward  moan  over  the  waste  of  summer  bloom  and  sweetness. 

And  does  the  soul  unconsciously  believe  and  look  forward 
to  the  dim  country  lying  in  the  ineffable  shadow  of  a  great  glo 
ry,  for  the  restitution  of  whatever  it  has  missed  in  this  ? 

Do  we  make  our  heaven  too  material  ?  Can  all  the  emotions 
and  feelings  and  longings  that  move  us  so  strongly  here,  be  for 
gotten  and  swept  away  there,  when  we  see  face  to  face  and 
know  as  we  are  known  ? 

So  Lucia  Mackenzie  put  that  "  might  have  been  "  out  of  the 
present  life,  since  it  would  never  have  even  the  solace  of  friend 
ship.  But  the  spiritual  sustenance  Mr.  Wilmer  could  give  bet 
ter  than  Mr.  Howe.  Besides,  she  really  owed  him  the  confi 
dence. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wilmer  both  came  in  answer  to  her  invitation. 
She  found  that  in  them  she  had  lenient  judges. 

"  And  God  I  think  plans  these  events  more  wisely  than  we," 
aid  Mr.  Wilmer.    "  If  you  had  told  me  your  whole  story  when 


302  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

we  first  met,  I  should  have  counselled  a  return,  which  would 
have  brought  about  a  graver  complication,  as  it  was  too  late 
even  then  to  be  of  any  avail." 

"  I  want  you  to  acquit  me  of  intentional  deceit  or  hypocri 
sy,"  Lucia  made  answer  pleadingly.  "  I  would  rather  have  told 
the  whole  truth  if  I  could  have  done  so.  And  I  desired  to 
keep  my  life  at  Merecombe  as  simple  and  open  as  I  possibly 
could." 

"You  have  nothing  to  regret  in  all  that,  my  child.  We 
learned  to  love  you  as  if  you  had  been  of  kin  instead  of  a 
stranger.  Mrs.  Preston  and  Edith  will  miss  you  sadly." 

Even  Mr.  Garth  experienced  the  nameless  attraction  that 
drew  every  one  sooner  or  later  to  Mr.  Wilmer.  Perhaps  it 
was  because  he  of  all  others  had  learned  the  meaning  still  high 
er  than  that  of  the  poet,  of  bringing  a  little  human  love  to 
mend  the  world.  No  narrow  or  grudging  creed  was  his.  In 
his  large  hearted  tenderness  he  considered  it  no  virtue  to  harp 
upon  faults  which  had  brought  their  own  punishment,  or  were 
irremediable. 

The  blow  that  she  had  feared  for  her  father  seemed  to  rouse 
new  mental  vigor  within  his  brain.  He  went  back  to  business, 
looked  over  the  tangled  mass  of  papers,  and  placed  matters  in 
a  fair  way  for  settlement. 

Lucia  had  her  plans  as  well.  She  begged  him  to  leave  this 
dreary  old  house,  for  she  felt  that  she  could  never  be  happy  or 
at  rest.  She  wanted  to  begin  the  world  anew.  With  their 
abundant  fortune  they  could  make  a  ha*ppier  home  elsewhere. 
He  listened  quietly,  and  did  not  dissent.  Indeed,  he  appeared 
to  hold  her  in  a  curious  awe. 

I  think  he  saw  more  clearly,  and  was  anxious  to  make 
amends  for  the  hardness  of  her  childhood.  Rachel  had  exer 
cised  an  unconscious  influence  over  him  and  aided  his  natural 
severity.  Now  there  was  naught  besides  tender  love. 

The  factory  was  disposed  of  on  advantageous  terms. 
Guardians  were  appointed  for  the  little  Lucy,  for  her  aunt  kept 


Lucia  :  Her  Problem.  303 

steadfast  to  her  purpose.  Lucy  should  be  her  father's  heiress. 
The  old  house  was  sold,  and  as  the  spring  advanced  they  took 
pleasant  little  tours  in  different  directions,  and  Mr.  Garth  be 
gan  to  understand  the  power  of  beauty.  He  was  like  a  man 
\\diose  eyes  had  been  suddenly  opened,  and  dazzled  by  the  vis 
ion,  he  was  forced  to  grope  and  stumble.  A  sense  of  the  in 
finite,  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God,  began  to  steal  over  him. 
He  was  awakened  to  new  perception,  new  enjoyment ;  he  was 
capable  of  a  higher  appreciation  of  the  power  and  beauty  that 
he  had  recently  begun  to  apprehend. 

It  was  late  to  begin  a  new  life,  and  yet  it  had  a  certain  soft 
ening  charm.  A  strange  interest  too,  a  new  nearness  to  his 
fellow-creatures.  He  had  always  passed  for  a  religious  man, 
but  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  just  begun  to  feel  the  power  of  sav 
ing  grace.  The  old,  rigid,  arbitrary  spirit  gave  place  to  a  con 
sideration  for  others. 

Under  her  aunt's  guidance  Lucy  Thorndike  blossomed  into 
childlike  sweetness.  The  prim  air  hung  about  her  like  a  del 
icate  suggestion  of  quaintness,  and  occasionally  a  bright  laugh 
sounded  through  the  rooms.  To  Mr.  Garth  it  was  like  the 
carol  of  a  bird  from  some  fragrant  covert. 

They  made  a  decision  at  last.  A  pretty  sea-side  town, 
with  a  range  of  hills  for  background,  broken  by  belts  of  tim 
ber  and  long  reaches  of  valley.  Near  enough  to  a  city  to  be 
within  easy  distance,  and  yet  sufficiently  secluded  for  their 
quiet  fancies.  A  rambling  house  with  some  tasteful  modern, 
additions,  pretty  gothic  porches,  wide  windows  with  low  bal 
conies,  nooks  of  clinging  vines  and  shady  trees,  and  a  sloping 
lawn  with  evergreen  hedges. 

Lucia  was  delighted  with  adorning  the  interior.  One  end 
of  the  drawing-room  fronted  the  lawn,  while  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  hall  the  cosiest  of  all  places  was  fitted  up  for  a  li 
brary.  Mr.  Garth  supplied  his  daughter  so  liberally  that  she 
was  not  compelled  to  deny  her  choicest  likings.  Loved  books 
and  pictures,  delicate  statuettes  that  she  had  grown  familiar 


304  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

with  elsewhere,  colors  harmoniously  blended,  and  yet  quite 
different  from  her  first  grandeur.  She  smiled  a  little  thinking 
of  that. 

And  when  it  was  all  done  she  looked  at  the  life  before  her. 
Simple  duties  indeed,  and  yet  grave.  To  be  a  mother  to  this 
motherless  child,  and  what  she  had  never  been  before — a  fond 
and  patient  daughter. 

It  seemed  to  Lucia  Garth,  for  she  had  taken  the  old  name 
when  she  found  how  much  it  would  please  her  father,  that 
she  had  come  to  the  most  peaceful  life  that  she  was  ever  to 
krrow.  Love  had  awakened  her  at  last.  Not  the  absorbing, 
overpowering  affection  for  which  she  used  to  hunger  and  thirst, 
and  which  is  after  all  a  woman's  birthright,  though  too  many 
souls  never  attain  to  their  full  inheritance  in  this  world.  But 
the  floodgates  of  her  being  had  been  opened  and  the  golden  riv 
er  of  peace  and  forgiveness  had  swept  over  her  baptizing  her 
unto  a  purer  and  more  spiritual  birth. 

In  her  prosperity  she  did  not  forget  to  recompense  her 
first  friend  who  had  nursed  her  through  her  long  illness. 
Sh-;  found  her  new  neighbors  pleasant  and  social,  people  of 
refinement  and  education.  What  more  was  there  to  wish 
for? 

She  prayed  now  and  then  for  Paul  Rutherford's  happiness. 
Did  the  woman  who  had  his  soul  in  keeping  prize  it  above  all 
other  treasures  ?  And  would  Vaughan  Marchmont  seek  her 
out  again  with  the  proffer  of  his  hateful  love  ? 

How  strangely  these  two  men  had  affected  her  life  !  Both 
had  influenced  her  with  the  impress  of  their  own  individuality, 
powerful  for  good  and  evil.  The  one  she  had  escaped,  the 
other  would  always  remain  in  her  memory  as  a  type  of  the 
highest  nobility. 

Later  in  the  summer  the  Wilmers  came  again,  bringing 
Mrs.  Preston  as  well  as  their  three  merry  children.  To  shy 
little  Lucy  it  was  a  rare  treat.  There  were  rides  and  rambles, 
sails  and  frolics  on  the  lawn,  and  all  the  diversions  of  eager, 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  305 

restless  childhood,  days  rounded  into  perfection  by  Miss  Lu 
cia's  beautiful  evening  hymns. 

The  two  ladies  discussed  Merecombe  as  was  natural.  The 
old  church,  the  Prestons,  the  Catherwoods,  and  a  few  others 
who  had  composed  Lucia's  circle. 

"  Mrs.  Catherwood  has  failed  seriously.  I  never  saw  any 
one  so  changed.  Her  health  and  energy  were  so  perfect  you 
know.  I  can't  help  thinking  that  the  trouble  about  her  grand 
daughter  was  a  severe  blow." 

"  She  is  married,"  Lucia  said  with  a  gasp. 

"  Oh,  yes.  It  was  a  grand  wedding  we  heard — at  her  aunt's 
in  the  city.  Her  cousins  went  down." 

"  But  I  thought  it  was  to  be  at  Merecombe,"  Lucia  return 
ed  with  a  puzzled  look. 

"  Oh,  you  know — "  and  then  Mrs.  Wilmer  paused.  "  It 
was  not  to  Mr.  Rutherford  !  " 

"  Not  Mr.  Rutherford  !  "  Lucia  echoed  in  surprise. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  so  you  do  not  know.  That  engagement  was 
broken — how  no  one  ever  exactly  understood.  The  Cather 
woods  are  proud  and  not  given  to  bruit  their  own  affairs 
abroad,  though  I  did  hear  a  whisper  that  Miss  Sturtevant  had 
another  lover.  I  don't  often  take  dislikes,  but  I  never  could 
cordially  admire  her." 

Lucia  shivered  at  a  remembrance  of  the  proud,  imperious 
face,  and  the  secret  that  she  unwittingly  shared. 

"  I  do  believe  Mrs.  Catherwood  loved  Mr.  Rutherford  like 
a  son.  She  had  known  him  from  boyhood.  But  I  never  could 
fancy  those  two  being  suited  to  each  other." 

"  You  know  he  went  abroad  for  her  after  her  mother  died," 
Mrs.  Preston  said.  "  There  might  have  been  some  change  in 
her  then." 

"  I  am  certain  that  he  believed  it  for  the  best,"  Lucra 
spoke  up  quickly,  her  face  in  a  strange  heat. 

"  And  yet  I  am  glad  that  he  has  not  added  another  to  the 
list  of  unwise  marriages,"  rejoined  Mr.  Wilmer. 


306  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

"  But  whom  did  she  marry  ? "  asked  Lucia  after  a  pause. 

"  She  went  directly  to  the  city — in  November  I  think  it  was, 
and  about  the  middle  of  the  next  June  married  a  Mr.  March- 
mont.  Miss  Sophie  considered  him  very  handsome,  and  he 
was  wealthy,  they  all  said.  It  was  reported  that  he  had  been 
seen  in  Merecombe  before." 

Vaughan  Marchmont  !  Lucia  was  silent  in  utter  amaze 
ment,  and  another  shackle  seemed  to  fall  away  from  her.  No 
one  had  connected  him  with  her,  and  it  was  well.  He  was 
not  likely  to  confide  such  a  secret  to  Eleanor  Sturtevant. 

"  There  was  something  in  it  that  touched  the  old  lady.  She 
bore  up  for  awhile,  but  I  noticed  a  peculiar  change  in  her  when 
Miss  Eleanor's  name  was  mentioned.  And  it  was  said  that 
young  Catherwood  fell  desperately  in  love  with  her.  It's  my 
opinion  that  she  was  a  dangerous  girl !  " 

Lucy  Garth's  pulses  gave  a  quick  and  almost  guilty  bound. 
He  was  free  then,  not  stranded  on  the  fatal  shore  of  misery  1 
And  perhaps  Eleanor  Sturtevant  was  as  well  satisfied. 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  307 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

AUTUMN    BLOOMS. 

BUT  what  had  become  of  Mr.  Rutherford  ?     Lucia  found 
herself  revolving  this  question  day  and  night.     Knowing 
how  fine  his  sense  of  honor  really  was,  she  had  never  thought 
to  see  him  again,  yet  now  it  seemed  that  in  his  trouble  he 
might  have  sought  her  out. 

She  took  herself  seriously  to  task  at  length.  Her  duties 
were  here,  and  a  few  months  ago  she  rwd  been  glad  to  accept 
them.  Had  she  any  weak,  foolish  longing  for  love,  for  the  one 
taste  of  entire  happiness  before  youth  faded  ? 

The  visit  was  rendered  most  agreeable  to  her  guests,  and 
proved  a  matter  of  great  satisfaction  and  pleasure  to  herself. 
Mr.  Wilmer's  pure  and  fervent  religion  shed  its  light  upon  ev 
ery  act,  and  he  drew  Mr.  Garth  gently  within  the  circle  of  his  in 
fluence.  Lucia  felt  strengthened  and  ennobled,  and  laying 
aside  all  selfish  desires  addressed  herself  anew  to  her  task. 
Was  not  this  love  tender  and  satisfying  ? 

Mr.  Garth  had  never  seen  her  brighter.  Of  all  pictures 
within  and  without  this  sweet  face  glowing  with  winsome  smiles 
warmed  his  heart  the  most.  Lucy  following  like  a  shadow,  the 
short,  golden  rings  making  a  halo  round  the  small  face,  now 
and  then  warmed  with  a  faint  pink  tinge. 

She  sat  on  the  balcony  one  afternoon  with  her  book  lying 
idly  beside  her.  On  the  distant  beach  wandered  two  figures, 
Lucy  and  her  grandfather.  The  life  stretching  out  before  her 
was  like  that  calm  sea,  and  they  the  central  figures.  Around 


308  Lucia:   Her 

them  was  to  cluster  her  tenderest  affection,  she  said.     Through 
stormy  paths  she  had  come  to  a  quiet  haven. 

Was  it  a  dream  of  the  softened  summer  sunlight?  Far 
down  below  the  branching  elms  lingered  another  form,  with 
slow  step  and  bowed  head,  as  if  undecided  whether  to  approach 
or  pass.  The  bright-brown  beard  caught  a  hazy  tint  from 
mingled  sun  and  shade,  but  the  face  was  paler  and  thinner  than 
in  the  past  days. 

Lucia  was  neither  fearful  nor  superstitious.  She  rose  and 
walked  slowly  down  the  path,  the  soft,  rich  tint  of  her  cheek 
fading  to  lily-like  paleness,  and  a  tremor  seizing  all  her  limbs. 
But  it  was  no  ghost,  no  phantom  of  imagination. 

He  seemed  to  hasten  forward,  and  reached  out  his  hand 
with  strange  hesitation. 

"  Miss — Garth  !  "  he  said  in  a  strange  sort  of  voice. 

"  Mr.  Rutherford  !     I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

Her  cordial  voice  touched  some  far  chord  in  his  soul,  and 
his  face  brightened. 

"  Are  you  ?     I  wanted  to  see  you  once  more  before — " 

A  pang  of  doubt  and  trembling  seized  her.  She  studied 
the  grave  face  with  its  added  lines,  and  wondered  what  fate 
would  have  in  store  for  him. 

"You  have  heard,  I  suppose,  that  my  engagement  came 
to  naught  ? " 

His  eyes  were  downcast  as  he  uttered  this,  and  could  not 
behold  the  fine  flush  that  stained  her  brow. 

"  Yes  ;  only  recently,  however.  The  Wilmers  have  been 
staying  with  me." 

"  But  you  hear  from  Mrs.  Catherwood  ? " 

"  Occasionally.  Of  late  she  has  been  an  infrequent  cor 
respondent." 

"  Her  health  and  energy  are  failing." 

"  So  I  have  heard.  She  was  unusually  brilliant  I  used  to 
think — a  woman  of  the  type  one  rarely  meets." 

'•  Yes  ; "  Mr.  Rutherford  made  answer.    He  was  not  think- 


Lucia:  Her  Problem.  309 

ing  of  the  Catherwoods  and  Merecombe — but  of  the  first  time 
he  had  seen  her  as  Lucy  Thorndike.  A  new  charm  had 
been  added  to  that  olden  grace ;  and  as  he  looked  and  lis 
tened,  he  understood  that  it  might  become  very  dangerous 
for  him. 

"  I  am  going  away,"  he  announced,  abruptly.  "  It  is  barely 
possible  that  I  may  never  return  to  my  native  land.  I  have 
no  ties — " 

His  eyes  were  raised  now,  and  he  saw  the  torrent  of  crim 
son,  fiercer  on  account  of  his  glance,  and  the  sudden  deathly 
whiteness  that  followed  it. 

"  Going  away  !  "  dreamily,  and  in  a  choking  voice. 

"  Yes ;  you  do  not  know  that  I  am  a  poor  man,  with  my 
life  work  to  do  over  again  ?  " 

"  No.     You  have  met  with  losses  ?  " 

All  her  tender  womanly  nature  was  roused. 

He  straightened  himself  and  swelled  out  his  broad  chest 
as  if  with  an  inspiration  of  courage.  There  was  a  latent  fire 
in  the  hazel  eyes,  strength,  patience,  and  something  finer  still, 
the  fortitude  of  a  soul  loyal  to  a  noble  faith. 

"  Yes ;  a  poor  man.  It  is  not  much  after  all,  since  it  en 
tails  no  pain  upon  others." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  know  !" 

Then  she  paused,  and  something  indescribable  came  into 
her  face. 

He,  seeing  it,  was  startled.  Like  a  revelation,  a  strange, 
sweet  knowledge  flashed  over  him. 

"  If  I  were  to  stay,"  he  thought  "  she  might  be  won  from 
this  warm  sympathy  into  love ! "  But  he  thrust  the  tempta 
tion  aside. 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  have  been  beguiled  into  this  child 
ishness — but  I  longed  to  behold  you  once  more.  So  many 
curious  scenes  and  memories  have  linked  us  together.  And 
your  last  step  was  not  a  mistake — or  failure  !  " 

"  No.     I  owe  it  all  to  you — so  much  !    I  have  thanked  God 


310  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

daily  that  I  came.  Were  you  aware  of — of  Rachel's  death, 
when  you  advised  me  ? " 

"  No ;  but  I  had  seen  the  change  in  your  father.  I  fancied 
at  one  time,  that  he  was  a  cold,  rigid  man,  with  but  few  avenues 
of  tenderness  and  sympathy.  His  love  for  his  grandchild  and 
his  sorrow  for  your  loss,  amazed  me.  I  hoped  you  would  find 
a  friend  in  him." 

"I  did — and  he  needed  me.  How  many  times  I  have 
thought  of  you  with  the  most  fervent  gratitude,  God  only  knows. 
You  have  proved  a  friend  in  my  most  desperate  needs  ! " 

Something  in  his  eyes  said  that  if  fate  had  been  less  rapid 
deciding  her  destiny,  it  might  have  been  more  than  friendship. 
She  dared  not  read  that. 

"  And  Mr.  Thorndike,  too,  is  dead." 

"  I  was  with  him  at  the  last ; "  and  her  voice  trembled. 
"  Not  that  he  had  softened  towards  me.  He  was  very  bitter 
on  my  return — as  he  had  a  right  to  be.  Oh,  Mr.  Rutherford, 
I  wronged  him  none  the  less  surely,  by  the  evil  marriage ;  but 
I  think  he  forgave  in  those  last  moments  " 

"  It  was  a  strange  puzzle  to  me,  when  I  first  saw  you.  Men 
of  that  stamp  rarely  understand  the  meaning  of  a  tender,  gen 
erous  love." 

"  The  fault  was  mine,"  she  said,  with  a  bravery  that  touch 
ed  him  ;  "  I  had  a  miserable,  uncongenial  home,  though  I  was 
a  rich  man's  daughter.  And  then  I  was  so  young,  so  ignorant, 
full  of  childish  vanity  and  love  of  triumph.  He  was  a  hero 
to  my  unpracticed  eyes,  and  his  admiration  for  me  seemed  the 
most  generous  love.  I  meant  to  do  my  duty.  I  even  think  I 
might  have  loved  ;  but — " 

Rutherford  gave  a  peculiar  smile. 

"  I  understand,"  he  said  slowly.  "  It  is  the  wreck  of  so 
many  lives.  I,  older  and  with  more  experience,  would  have 
drifted  on  to  the  same  fate." 

"  Eleanor  Sturtevant  did  not  love  you  !  "  Lucia  said,  with 
the  pain  and  pride  of  a  keen-eyed  woman. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  311 

He  started  at  this,  and  glanced  up  so  sharply  that  she  col 
ored. 

"  But  she  did  once — or,  at  least  beguiled  me  with  a  cun 
ning  semblance  of  it.  May  I  tell  you  the  story  ? " 

"  I  shall  listen,  gladly." 

He  wanted  her  to  know,  and  to  judge  him  fairly. 

"  It  was  Eleanor  Sturtevant's  fortune  that  was  invested  at 
Dedham,  though  with  Mrs.  Catherwood's  advice  and  consent. 
We  all  thought  it  so  sure.  I  went  abroad  for  her  at  her  grand 
mother's  wish ;  and  the  news  of  the  misfortune  was  late,  very 
late  in  reaching  me.  If  I  had  been  within  call,  I  should  have 
had  a  more  thorough  understanding  of  the  matter ;  but  when  I 
saw  her  reduced  to  poverty,  through  my  means,  and  clinging 
to  me  with  a  girl's  helpless  trust,  I  tried  to  comfort,  and  resolv 
ed  to  devote  my  whole  life  to  the  restoration  of  her  prosperity." 

He  made  a  long  pause,  and  presently  resumed — 

"  I  offered  mine  in  its  stead,  but  she  refused  it  with  a  gener 
osity  that  touched  me  strangely.  Do  not  believe  it  all  my 
vanity  "  and  he  colored  deeply,  "  but  I  fancied  I  saw  a  love 
which  I  could  hardly  doubt.  Still  I  waited  until  it  appeared 
cruel  not  to  speak." 

"  I  understand  ;"  Lucia  made  answer,  though  with  rare  del 
icacy  her  face  was  partly  turned  away. 

"  I  thought  she  loved  me,  I  want  you  to  believe  that ;  my 
own  happiness  appeared  of  less  consequence  to  me  since  I 
had  seen  and  known  an  impossibility  before." 

Some  far-reaching  sympathy  drew  their  eyes  together  at 
these  words.  Both  souls  were  stirred  with  a  pang  of  the  sweet, 
sad  knowledge. 

"  There  was  some  fatal  falseness  in  her  nature,  as  I  learn 
ed  too  late.  I  would  have  given  her  up  then,  but  she  would 
not  accept  her  freedom  ;  and  her  grandmother  implored  me 
to  keep  my  word.  The  breach  was  healed  and  a  marriage-day 
appointed.  Last  autumn — perhaps  you  remember  ?  But  a 
new  proof  of  her  perfidy  reached  me  barely  a  fortnight  before- 


312  Lucia:  Her  Problem. 

hand.  A  young  man  whom  she  had  met  and  corresponded 
with  during  her  engagement  with  me,  sent  me  the  letters." 

He  shivered  visibly  at  this,  and  there  was  a  strange  cold 
ness  in  his  voice. 

"  Oh,  thank  God  !  "  Lucia  exclaimed  impulsively.  "  I 
knew  of  this.  I  heard  a  conversation  by  accident,  when  she 
was  imploring  this  lover,  Harold — to  return  her  letters." 

"  Harold  Cheltenham.     And  you  knew — " 

"  I  was  wild  to  save  you.  God  only  knows  the  anguish  I 
suffered !  But  I  was  bound  hand  and  foot.  How  could  I 
speak  ? " 

"  Her  face  was  scarlet  now  with  shame  and  distress. 

"  And  you  had  your  own  bitter  burden.  Yes,  I  can  believe 
that  my  happiness  was  something  to  you.  But  I  was  saved. 
We  all  saw  her  as  she  was.  A  dangerous,  fascinating,  yet 
treacherous  woman,  hungry  for  power,  for  conquest.  Why  she 
should  ever  have  chosen  me,  when  there  were  younger  or 
more  brilliant  men,  I  cannot  divine." 

In  her  tender  jealousy  Lucia  thought  she  saw.  His  love 
might  glorify  any  woman. 

"And  so  ended  what  might  have  been  a  tragedy.  For 
though  I  could  be  tender  and  forgiving  to  one  who  sinned 
through  any  sudden  temptation  and  repented,  intrigue  and  de 
ceit  would  find  but  small  mercy  with  me." 

She  raised  her  head  proudly.  She  was  not  to  suffer  in  his 
estimation  for  any  such  faults  as  these. 

"  I  paid  over  her  fortune.  I  had  been  managing  with  stud 
ied  economy,  and  through  the  kindness  of  a  friend  I  was  ena 
bled  to  make  up  the  small  deficiency.  Then  she  met  Vaughan 
Marchmont,  and  was  in  her  turn  fascinated." 

A  shudder  ran  through  Lucy's  frame.  Perhaps  the  man 
might  be  master  of  such  a  woman. 

"  It  left  me  somewhat  in  debt  I  have  had  a  very  good  of 
fer  to  go  abroad,  and  may  not  only  free  myself,  but  retrieve 
.somewhat  of  the  past" 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  313 

» 

He  announced  it  as  his  justification.  She  knew  then  that 
if  he  loved  her  ever  so  well,  his  pride  would  forbid  his  confess 
ing  it  until  he  was  once  more  a  free  man.  Yet  she  would  have 
useless  thousands ! 

"  Oh,"  she  exclaimed,  "  surely  you  can  succeed  here  !  " 

He  saw  the  tremor  that  quivered  underneath  her  fine,  pure 
skin,  that  caused  the  eyes  to  droop  and  the  face  to  flush.  A 
sharp  pang  seized  him. 

"  You  may  have  thought  me  indifferent,"  he  went  on, 
"  but  I  have  not  been  ignorant  of  any  change  in  your  destiny. 
It  is  the  one  bright  memory  that  I  shall  take  with  me.  I 
am  glad  to  find  you  happy  and  at  ease,  and  in  the  years  to 
come — " 

They  glanced  into  each  other's  eyes  and  knew  the  secret 
lying  in  the  depths  of  both  hearts. 

"  Oh  !  "  he  said  with  a  cry  of  pain  wrung  from  him  by 
some  strong  conquering  passion,  "  I  should  not  have  come  ! 
I  was  too  weak,  and  yet  for  days  I  have  been  nerving  myself 
for  this — to  come  and  go  without  a  sign,  to  school  my  face,  my 
voice — " 

"  Why,"  she  answered  eagerly — "  why  ?  Is  it  any  shame,  or 
am  I — "  and  a  cold  grasp  of  despair  seemed  to  seize  her. 

He  translated  the  terror  of  her  expression. 

"  Oh,  no,  not  that !  We  all  make  mistakes,  and  yours  was 
most  bitter  to  yourself.  But  how  could  I  offer  a  life  so  heav 
ily  burdened  ?  I  should  come  to  grudge  the  years  devoted  to 
that  labor,  when  they  should  be  spent  in  making  your  life 
blessed  and  beautiful.  But  this  you  may  know,  though  I  had 
not  thought  to  confess  it,  that  I  love  you  with  an  absorbing 
passion,  always  shall ;  but  I  am  not  selfish  enough  to  take  any 
brightness  out  of  your  life  to  put  in  mine." 

"  What  if  I  choose  to  give  it  ?  "  she  murmured  softly,  with 
radiant  face  and  sweet,  downcast  eyes. 

For  now  she  had  come  to  understand  the  grand  truths  of 
life — that  one's  highest  pleasure  and  keenest  happiness  was 


314  Lucia:   Her  Problem. 

not  in  selfish  aggrandizement,  but  the  ready  ministering  to  oth 
ers  out  of  one's  own  abundance. 

"  No,"  he  said  hoarsely,  "  don't  tempt  me.  You  have 
borne  your  share  of  sorrow,  your  heavy  burden  of  care,  and 
henceforth  life  may  be  bright  and  blissful.  I  should  shadow  it" 

"  Stay !  "  she  answered,  reaching  out  her  hand. 

He  covered  it  with  kisses.  One  long,  passionate,  despair 
ing  glance.  If  he  had  saved  this  woman  from  any  pang — if 
he  had  restored  her  to  any  lost  happiness — he  would  not  be 
ungenerous  enough  to  take  advantage  of  it,  and  so  he  turned. 

Looking  back  he  saw  the  white  face,  the  drooping  fig 
ure,  a  sudden  autumn  frost  despoiling  the  summer  warmth 
and  loveliness.  Should  he  despise  her  royal  gift?  Should 
he  make  her  wait  wearisome  years,  for  he  know  she  would 
do  that ! 

One  step — one  word  only.  A  touch  of  tender,  clinging 
hands,  aud  their  lives  blended  into  one,  the  true  level  reached 
at  last. 

And  still  they  lingered  under  the  branching  trees,  confess 
ing  past  errors  and  mistakes,  and  learning  to  judge  each  other 
more  truly  by  the  light  of  expeiience  and  hope.  And  then 
the  two  figures  came  slowly  up  from  the  sands — baby  Lucy 
with  cheeks  like  the  pink  of  a  sea- shell,  and  soft  hair  blown 
about  by  the  wind. 

They  went  forward  to  meet  them.  Lucia  laid  her  hand 
softly  on  Mr.  Garth's  arm,  a  wondrous  light  shining  in  her 
eyes,  and  through  the  quivering  scarlet  lips  came  a  low,  tender 
word — 

"  Father !  " 

Paul  Rutherford  drew  the  other  arm  within  his  strong,  pro 
tecting  clasp,  and  bowing  his  manly  figure,  said  as  tenderly  as 
she — 

"  Father !  " 

The  old  man  understood  and  smiled,  then  drew  the  child 
in  their  midst. 


Lucia:   Her  Problem.  815 

"  She  will  never  miss  the  care  of  mother  or  father,"  prom 
ised  the  rich,  deep  voice. 

Down  on  the  level  sands  the  golden  sun  lay  dying.  Up 
here  the  new  day  had  begun. 

Lucia  Garth  bowed  her  head.  Whatever  of  the  old  shad 
ows  had  clung  about  her,  fell  away  now,  in  this  love  glorified 
radiance. 


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guished  preacher,  and  one  which  in  its  fervid  devotional 
epirit,  the  richness  of  its  sentiments,  and  the  beauty  of  it« 
imagery,  fully  sustains  his  high  reputation.. 

Sjpurg  eon's  Gems.  Being  Brilliant  Passages  from 
the  Sermons  of  the  Eev.  C.  H.  SPUKGEON,  of  Lon 
don.  One  vol.,  12mo.  Price,  $1.50. 

"  The  Publishers  present  this  book  as  a  specimen  of  Mr. 
Spurgeon's  happiest  thoughts, — gems  from  his  discourses,— 
which  will  glow  in  the  mind  of  "the  reader,  and  quicken  in 
him  a  desire  to  read  and  hear  more  of  this  remarkable  youth 
ful  creacher. 


STANDARD   AND    MISCELLANEOUS   BOOKS. 


Neander's  (Planting  and  Training  of  the 
Christian  Church  by  Ihe  Apostles.  Trans 
lated  from  the  German  by  J.  E.  RYLAXD.  Trans 
lation  revised  and  corrected  according  to  the  fourth 
German  edition.  By  E.  G.  ROBINSON,  D.D.,  Pro 
fessor  in  the  Rochester  Theological  Seminary.  One 
vol.,  octavo,  cloth.  Price,  $4.00. 

"The  patient  scholarship,  the  critical  sagacity,  and  the 
Bimple  and  unaffected  piety  of  the  author,  are  manifest 
throughout.  Such  a  history  should  find  a  place  in  the  library 
of  every  one  who  seeks  a  familiar  knowledge  of  the  early 
shaping  of  the  Christian  Churches.  An  excellent  index  adds 
to  its  value." — Evangelist. 

Illustrations.  Being  &  Store-house  of  Simi- 
lies,  Allegories,  and  Anecdotes — with  an  introduc 
tion  by  RICHARD  NEWTON,  D.D.  One  vol.,  12mo. 
Price,  $1.50.  Every  Sabbath  School  teacher  should 
have  this  book. 

"  It  is  impossible  not  to  commend  a  book  like  this." — Ed* 
itor  of  Encyc.  of  Religious  Knowkdge. 

"  We  think  that  Sabbath  School  teachers  especially  would 
be  profited  by  reading  it ;  and  many  of  the  anecdotes  will 
help  to  pouit  the  arrow  of  the  preacher." — Christian  Herald. 


SPURGEON'S  WORKS. 

Sermons  of  the  32ev.  C.  II.  Spurgton,  of  Lon 
don,  in  uniform  styles  of  binding. 

First  Series.  With  an  Introduction  and  Sketch  of  his  Life,  by 
the  Rev.  E.  L.  MA  GOON,  D.D.  With  a  fine  steel-plate  Por 
trait.  One  vol.,  12mo.,  pp.  400.  Price,  $1.50. 

Second  Series.  Revised  by  the  Author,  and  published  with 
his  sanction.  Containing  a  new  eteel-plate  Portrait,  engraved 
expressly  for  the  volume.  Price,  $1.50. 

Tliird  Series.  Revised  by  the  Author,  and  published  with  his 
sanction.  Containing  a  steel-plate  view  of  Surrey  Music 
Hall,  London,  engraved  expressly  for  the  volume.  Price,  $1 .50, 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


Form  L9-32ro-8,'57(.C8680s4)444 


PS 


Douglas  - 


15*9     Lucia:  her 
lu  problem 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A  A  000035772  3 


PS 


